What it Means to be Alive Part 2
by Hephaestus01
Summary: The story was getting to be a little long. This is Part 2 of the sequel to They Did Not Fade Away.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 35

Angel cleared the rubbish from his desk and sat down heavily. Looking at the clock, he realized that he should be getting home. Buffy was alone with Connor, which wasn't always a bad thing, but Buffy had been crankier lately. She was due to give birth in four weeks and she was having a hard time adjusting to not being able to work.

Connor had moved in with Buffy and Angel. He had tried to continue in his job, but after a few weeks Connor had grudgingly accepted that he was in no mental condition to work. Buffy had commented to Angel a few weeks ago that there was a Connor shaped impression in their couch. Angel's son hadn't been very active in the past two months.

Angel looked again at his desk. The proposal, written by Willow and signed by both the witch and Giles, was still sitting in front of him. Angel admitted he liked the idea Willow was proposing. The American Academy of Slayers was scheduled to open in two months and Faith had finally signed on as the headmaster. The only pieces missing to the council's new puzzle were financial backing and protection. The new academy would have neither if Wolfram and Hart didn't step in to help.

The entire team had been working for the past two months on the murder of Connors' family. They hadn't moved very far from square one. The only lead they had was a witch Connor had visited in order to find Angel. She had disappeared and there was no trace of her. Connor hadn't taken this news well. The idea that he could have inadvertently caused the deaths of his family by searching for Angel was like a festering sore inside his body. The guilt ravaged him on a daily basis.

Will and Angel had both tried to bring Connor out of the massive depression he had fallen into, but the times when Connor wanted to leave the house were few. Connor would train periodically, and when he did it was evident that he was a very angry young man. It was becoming more and more rare that he expressed his anger without his fists.

Fred had come back to work full-time, with Allie in tow. The baby had her own section of Fred's office that was dedicated to the infant. Allie could almost hold her head up of her own accord now. Wes and Fred were mending the bridges that had started to burn. Angel wasn't sure when he would have to have a heart-to-heart with Wes, but he was sure it would have to happen.

Glancing back at the proposal on his desk, he tried to keep his focus on work. It was hard not to think about Connor, existing in Angel's house but not really living. Angel tried not to reflect on the fact that there was nothing he could do to ease his sons' pain. The only thing that could possibly help Connor was finding who had destroyed his life. Angel knew that until they found who had murdered Connors' family, none of them would ever rest.

Looking up at the clock, he sighed. Faith was coming in tomorrow. Together with Angel, she would peruse her options for the slayer school. Angel's team had found three excellent selections for the slayer to choose from. In addition to traveling with Faith, looking for the best location for the school, he also had to telecommute to the Council, to meet with Willow and Giles. Sometime after these events he had to meet with Will and Gunn to discuss five new cases the firm had taken on in the last week. There were other cases in motion, of course, but these five deserved Angel's attention.

He carefully packed his briefcase and put the remaining papers away. He had to get home to Buffy and Connor and make sure they were okay. Turning towards the door, he entered a lobby that was just starting to quiet down. Half the employees had already left the building. Turning, he caught sight of Xander coming down the hall towards him. Xander didn't look happy. Angel stopped and waited for the other man to reach him.

"I got some news. You might want to be sitting down to hear it. And Will might want to be here too."

The anxious look on Xander's face made Angel immediately turn into his office and dial Will's cell number. In a little more than five minutes, the three men were sitting around the conference table and two pairs of eyes were on Xander.

Taking a deep breath, Xander composed himself before speaking. He had returned from Paris three days ago and had since been focusing his efforts on the L.A. branch of Wolfram and Hart. He had heard from their French counterpoints that there had been some kind of involvement by L.A. branch members with very unsavory events in the past few months.

"Okay. When I was France, I heard something I left out of the report. An employee, who was killed two mornings ago, by the way, mentioned something about death by fire and these deaths effecting Wolfram and Hart. I tried to track this guy down to talk to him more but I just couldn't get to him in time. Anyway, when I got back here I found a few people at this branch that had been in communication with the Paris branch.

What I found was Scott Genero, he's a low level clerk. This Scott guy not only had contact with the dead Paris employee who mentioned deaths and fire, but he also had some kind of contact with the witch Connor visited when he was trying to track you down. Genero disappeared this morning, he never showed up to work. I went to his apartment, just to scope it out, and it looked like he hasn't been there in a while. His can wasn't in the driveway or on the street."

Xander stopped and just looked at the men in front of him. Angel looked furious and yet somehow relieved. Will had the look of a cat that had been hunting a bird for hours and was just about to pounce. Angel spoke first.

"Find this guy. Find how he's connected to that witch Connor used. I know she was involved in that family's death. If Genero had contact with her, he probably had something to do with it too. This is the first good lead we've had in months, let's exhaust it." Standing, he turned to Xander, "Good work, Xander. Thanks."

In a few moments, Angel was standing in Human Resources, going through the file drawers that held the life stories of every Wolfram and Hart employee. Genero's file was frustratingly thin. Before tossing the file back into the drawer, Angel took a mental picture of the page with Genero's current living arrangements and family contacts. He was going to be late getting home tonight.

Will was waiting for Angel in the car deck. Silently, the two men got into a navy blue SUV and started away from the office. Angel wanted to confirm what Xander had alluded to was true. This Scott Genero was involved in the plot to murder Connor's family. Angel was sure that if this person had spoken to people in Paris the conspiracy was far reaching.

"Another fucking cult." Angel spat under his breath. "Can you believe it? Another cult in Wolfram and Hart. Another cult putting people I love in danger. Only this time it resulted in death."

"We're going to have to deal with this forever. The nature of this place draws people who want to be parts of cults. We can only catch it early enough that no one has to get hurt."

"We didn't catch it this time, did we? And Connor lost everyone that meant anything to him."

"Not everyone."

Glancing briefly at Will, Angel refocused on the road. They needed to search this guy's place and move on. Angel knew there was a team that could do this. He even knew that Will could lead that team. He felt compelled, though, to be the person to search this apartment. Connor deserved that much.

Pulling into the driveway of the address Angel had memorized, he and Will looked at a building that was sorely in need of new paint and a few new walls. If there was a stereotype for buildings that housed murdering cults, this would fit the description. The car that was registered to Genero wasn't parked on the street or in the small driveway to the left of the building.

There was no doorman. There was no security. Angel and Will walked into the building and up the three flights of stairs to apartment 3C. The door was dead bolted, which was little deterrent for the two men who wanted to gain entry. Once the door was swinging on its hinges, they started systematically searching every inch of the apartment.

After three hours, Angel slammed his fist into the kitchen countertop in frustration. Quickly getting himself under control, he swallowed hard and led the way out of the apartment. Feeling as though he had wasted the past few hours searching an apartment that held incredibly little information, Angel broke every speed limit there was on their way back to the office.

It was only after dropping Will off and checking in with Xander that Angel left for home. There had been no headway in locating Genero and Angel doubted there would be. The man was probably dead already. Genero and the dead Paris employee were minions, peons used by the more important people. Those kinds of workers were easy to come by and even easier to get rid of.

Buffy was asleep, as Angel expected. Connor, however, was sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through television channels with the remote. The young man turned to look at his father, obviously upset.

"What did you find?" Connor was not unintelligent. Angel was always home at a reasonable hour; he hated leaving Buffy alone. If Angel was this late, there would be a very good reason, and Connor knew the murders of his family members would be the best reason.

Angel sighed heavily and set his briefcase down. Taking a seat next to his son, he composed what he was about to say very carefully. "We found a lead. We think we found someone who was involved, but it looks like it goes further beyond him. This is a pretty big conspiracy, Connor. We'll find them, I promise."

Nodding, Connor did not look convinced. He looked less that sure that the murderers of his family would ever be brought to justice. Taking a deep breath, he released the frustrations he had been holding within himself most of the day. "Katherine broke up with me. She said she could wait for me but that I didn't want her. She said I could come back when I was ready to want a relationship. She was nice about it and everything. I guess I don't blame her. I wouldn't put up with me either."

Furious, Angel calmly put his hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm sorry Connor. I guess…I guess she couldn't handle it." Katherine leaving Connor during such a difficult time in his life seemed like betrayal to Angel.

"I don't blame her. I mean, I'm a wreck. I haven't seen her in weeks, I barely talk to her. I just can't do it right now. You know? I can't give her any attention when I'm so screwed up."

"You're not screwed up, you're grieving. You're aloud to grieve. Connor, you have to give yourself time."

He scoffed. "Everyone says that. Everyone says I should give myself time. What does that mean? Time for what? Time to go insane. Time to try and be normal again. I'll never be normal again. I'll never be who I was before. I mean…who am I now? I don't even know what name I should use anymore."

"You use the name you have used. Your family loved you Connor, nothing can ever change that. Remember that."

Connor's eyes were tearing a little and his silence told Angel it was time to part ways. Giving his sons' shoulders a gentle squeeze, Angel stood and made his way to his bedroom. Buffy was lying on her side, hugging a body pillow to herself, her knee raised on it and her stomach resting gently against it. She looked peaceful, serene.

Sitting next to her, he put his hand against her stomach. The baby didn't kick at night. His unborn son was sleeping, getting up his strength to join the world. Buffy stirred a little at Angel's touch. Smiling, she opened her eyes slightly.

"I missed you."

"I'm sorry. Something came up."

"Doesn't something always come up? Come to bed." Closing her eyes, she immediately seemed to fall asleep again. He knew when he had been dismissed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 36

Buffy took deep breaths and told herself what she was experiencing were false contractions. She wasn't going to tell Angel about the spasms passing through her back and around to her belly button; he didn't need to worry that she was going to go into labor. Wrapping a towel around herself, she stepped from the bathroom into the bedroom. Angel was sitting on the bed, having already showered, and was tying his shoes. He smiled at her as he looked up.

"You look beautiful."

She laughed, trying to fight through the discomfort plaguing her. Hiding her wince as she turned around, she went to the dresser and pulled out track pants and a t-shirt. The heat wave that had plagued L.A. the past few months had yet to break. It was August now and the heat seemed to be worse than ever. She silently thanked the heavens above for air conditioning.

Angel had explained why he had been late the night before. They had discussed the implications of the situation and decided that it would be best to keep the information secret. It was unnecessary to broadcast that Angel had a son and was searching for the people that had murdered aforementioned sons' adopted family. Genero's disappearance would be kept quiet; they didn't want any other members of the conspiracy to know they were in danger. It was better to keep the conspirators guessing.

Buffy sat next to Angel, her pants below her belly and her t-shirt riding up over it. She laughed as she put her hands on her bare skin. Her unborn child was kicking fiercely. Buffy figured the spasms she was feeling were probably squishing her baby a little.

"He's kicking a lot."

Breathing deeply, Angel pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. "Only four more weeks."

Trying to hide her nervous laugh, she cleared her throat. "Yeah. Four weeks and we'll have a baby. I'm going to be a mom in less than a month." Looking at Angel, she bit her lip. "Am I going to be good at it?"

The surprise must have been evident on his face because she laughed a little. "You are going to be the best mom, Buffy. You are a wonderful, caring woman. I can't wait to see you hold our baby for the first time. You're going to be great."

"I'm nervous. I don't know anything about babies. I can't change one or bathe one. I mean, what if I screw up? What if I mess this baby up?"

"What's the worse that can happen? You put the diaper on backwards? Buffy, I'll be here. You won't be alone with our child. I mean, I know I'm rusty, but I think I can remember how to how to bathe and change and feed a baby. I'll help you. And you can help me. Your maternal instincts will take over and you'll know what to do. Even if we screw up a little, we'll know what to do different with the next one."

Her eyes looked ready to pop out of her head. "Next one? Angel, you're nuts. If you think I'm doing this," she motioned to her belly, "again, you're nuts. This has been really hard. And…well the labor part of it really scares me. I've heard a lot of horror stories. And I've been reading these books and there is some really scary stuff that goes on. I don't think I can do this again."

"You don't have to." He tried not to let the disappointment he felt show. He hadn't told anyone, but his secret desire was to have a few more children with Buffy. He longed for the family he had never been a part of. His heart ached a little for just a moment until he stuffed that secret desire deep inside of him with a hundred others.

Buffy looked at his face and saw the instant of pain that flashed there. It was gone as quickly as it was there, but he had felt something intense for a moment. "What? What's wrong, Angel?"

"Nothing. I just worry about you. I'm scared for the labor too. I think you'll be okay, we'll have the best doctors, but I know a lot can go wrong. I saw a lot of awful things the first time I was human."

A nervous look came to her face. "I hope we've gotten better at taking care of pregnant women since then. I mean…" She stopped and held her stomach as her baby gave her a series of kicks that she was certain would send most vampires flying.

Angel saw her discomfort and immediately put his hand on her stomach. "Buffy are you okay? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to upset you. Are you all right?"

Taking a deep breath, she rubbed circles on her skin. "I'm okay. It wasn't you, Angel. The baby's kicking. Hard. I think he's been taking lessons or something."

"You're okay, though? Nothing's wrong?"

"I would tell you if there was." Guilt ebbed at her for a moment but she pushed it away. False contractions were nothing to be worried about, she thought, and Angel didn't need the added stress. Another thought plagued her conscious, though. "Angel…are we always…I mean, will we ever, um…well, will we always be just dating?" Looking at him cautiously, she waited with bated breath for his answer.

"You mean you want to get married." He had known this conversation was a long time coming. Angel was well aware that Buffy wouldn't want to be his common law wife or the mother of his illegitimate children. Smiling reassuringly, he kissed her long and hard before answering.

"I want to marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want our children to be mine, legitimately. I thought you would want to wait until after the baby was born to get married. I mean, I don't know what you want, but…" He was cut off by her lips on his.

It was a few seconds before he had a moment to take a much needed breath. "Okay. I guess you like that idea."

"Angel, I want a real wedding. I mean, I know it's stupid for me to wear white." She indicated her stomach again, "but lots of women do it, right? I want flowers and a dress and everything. Everything."

"You'll have everything you want, I promise. I'll fly in half of Holland if you want, we'll have flowers from here to Santa Monica. It will be beautiful."

Reluctantly pulling herself from his embrace, she stood and stretched. "I can't wait to have this baby here already. I feel like I swallowed a Volkswagen. After I have the baby and we all get settled in, we can get married and we'll the perfect little family. Complete with a step-son the same age as my sister and a lot of demons, of course, but still the perfect family."

"The perfect family for us, Buffy. Neither of us could do white picket fences and PTA meetings."

"I'll go to PTA meetings." She looked a little offended. "I want to. I mean, I want to do everything a mom does. I want to buy a minivan and drive a dozen kids to soccer practice. Or hockey practice, or whatever. I want to bake cookies and cupcakes and make valentines for the whole class. We'll make papier-mâché planets for science projects and you can help with history homework. I want to have a family. A real family."

Nodding slowly, he looked at her as she completed a series of stretches she had been doing every morning. Trying to fight back the waves of fear he felt, he swallowed hard before responding to her. "Are you sure I'm the right person for this job?" His voice was slow and soft, and he watched her stop her movements and turn towards him.

"Angel, what does that mean? Do you think you won't be a good dad?"

"Maybe not the kind you're describing. I don't know if I can do all that stuff. I don't think I'll be good at it. What if I turn our kid into an emotionally stunted, socially awkward fighting machine? I don't think I'll be very good at parent-teacher conferences and helping with homework."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she pursed her lips and stared at him. "It's a little late for second thoughts, you know. We could have thought about that about nine months ago. Angel, you'll be a great dad. You're caring, supportive," she sat next to him, "you're funny when you're not brooding. You'll be great."

"I hope you're right."

"I'm always right."

He smiled at that. Raising from the bed they walked hand in hand downstairs. Turing his head, Angel caught a glimpse of his son in the living room. Connor was sitting on the couch, his arms wrapped around his knees, which were against his chest. He was staring at an infomercial, obviously not really watching. His eyes looked very far away.

"Connor? Are you okay?" Angel, concerned, approached his son and knelt in front of him. "Connor?"

It took a moment for the younger man to focus his eyes on his father. "What? I'm fine, Angel." His voice seemed very far away.

Touching his sons' shoulders gently, he pulled Connor from the couch by his elbow. Guiding his son towards the kitchen, he pointed the young man to a chair and watched him sit. Angel tried to keep his emotions in check, but watching his son hurt so deeply was devastating.

Helping Buffy with breakfast, Angel put eggs and bacon in front of Connor. Buffy was ravenous in the mornings, and spoke little as she ate. Angel pushed the food around his own plate as he watched Connor periodically stab at his eggs.

"Connor, eat something."

"No." Not bothering to look up at the people he was seated next to, he continued to stab his eggs and crush his bacon into little pieces. "When are you going into the office?"

"Soon. After breakfast."

"I'm coming too."

Angel stopped pushing his food around and looked straight at Connor. "Why?" Angel knew the reason, but he wanted to hear it from Connor's mouth.

"I want to be a part of this investigation. I can't just sit here all day and think about what you guys are doing. I have to be there too." His anger rose as he raised his eyes to meet Angels'. "They were my parents, damn it! They were my fucking parents and my sisters and I want to be there to find their killers!" Having exhausted his short burst of energy, he slumped back in his chair and stared at his eggs again.

Buffy had been quietly sitting, watching Connor and Angel interact. "I think that's a great idea." She saw Angel's curious glance, but continued anyway. "You need to be active in this. It's the only way you'll heal. Sitting on the couch staring at the wall and thinking all day won't help you. Finding the people that did this and killing them will." She rose slowly, taking her plate to the sink with her.

"I agree that you need to be involved. Eat something, I won't have you passing out in the office. We'll leave after you get cleaned up." 

Connor nodded, knowing that he looked pretty awful. He hadn't shaved in a week, there were black bags under his eyes and he had lost weight. His skinny frame looked almost anorexic now. He forced himself to eat almost half of what was in front of him and rose to go upstairs and shower.

Angel watched his oldest son leave the table and put his chin on his fists, his elbows resting on the table. He had so much to do and very little time to do it. Closing his eyes briefly, an image of Cordy flashed through his mind. He had very little communication with his seer over the past two months. They had met briefly a few times in restaurants or bars, but Angel longed for more time with his friend.

He missed their heart-to-hearts and the nights when they would watch old movies together and laugh. He missed talking with her, knowing that he wasn't going to be judged or ridiculed. She would rib him gently or tease him, but it was always good natured. They had grown so much together and experienced so much together in such a short period of time, he missed her when they weren't together.

No one knew of her existence. All their friends were still under the impression that she was dead and buried. Cordy had asked Angel not to tell anyone, but he knew they couldn't continue having clandestine meetings and funneling money into her bank account without someone noticing.

Her hair was still black, shoulder length and choppy and she was leaner than ever. He had fought with her a few times and she was as ruthless and powerful as he remembered her being. In fact, he reflected, she was better than ever; she had obviously put a lot of time and effort into perfecting her skills.

Will was suspicious, Angel knew. If the other former vampire didn't know Cordy was alive, he would soon. Nothing got by Will these days. Including Dawn, Angel thought. She had bypassed his friend's defenses fairly easily, it seemed. The young woman had kept her head down, made herself a vital part of the company in the past few months, but still remained unimportant enough that a few unexplained absences were never thoroughly questioned. Even when she and the vice president disappeared at the same times.

Will knew that Angel knew of the relationship, but thankfully no one else had found out. There would hell to pay if Buffy found out her baby sister was sleeping with her ex-boyfriend. Angel had hoped that the relationship would fizzle and burn out, but they seemed to be even more intense lately. Will had been leaving work at almost normal hours three days a week to meet Dawn for dinner or drinks.

Opening his eyes, he looked at Buffy, who was in the living room going through a few tai-chi exercises he had shown her. She was beautiful, he though. Perfect in every way that mattered to him. Looking towards the stairwell, he watched a shaved and showered Connor descend into the living room.

Nodding his approval to his son, he rose to kiss his wife-to-be goodbye. Reminding her that they would probably be late getting home, he walked with his son outside to the car.

It was going to be an interesting day.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 37

Stepping into the sunlight, she straightened her blue camisole and pulled the shoulder strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. Her black boots and long jeans were making her sweat; it was ridiculously hot. Her hair was longer now, a few inches past her shoulders. Today it was pulled back into a ponytail; it was too hot out to have her hair against her neck. Looking around, she adjusted her sunglasses a little. She hoped they weren't late. Waiting out in the sun would put her in a bad mood.

"Faith?" She turned around and allowed herself to smile.

"Charles Gunn. Good to see you."

"You too." He motioned towards a car sitting at the curb and the pair got into the back seat.

"Doesn't anyone drive themselves around here?"

"Not if we can help it. How've you been?"

"Good. Did some traveling. Saw some sights. Cool stuff, I guess. So, what's on the agenda for today?"

She was right down to business. Gunn liked that in a person, especially in a woman. She looked good, a little lighter emotionally that the last time he had seen her, Gunn thought. Her mouth turned upwards in a half smile much easier and more readily than he remembered and her eyes looked a little less haunted.

"We're going to the office. You'll meet up with Angel and the two of you are going to see a few locations for the school. Then there's a meeting with The Council, via satellite. By The Council, I mean Willow and Giles. They seem to be the only people worth talking to anyway."

"Yeah," she smiled a little, "they shook that place up. After it was blown up, anyway. There is no one else to talk to. There's Red and there's Giles. That's it." She paused and looked serious. "I heard Connor's had a hell of a time lately. The kid lost his family, Red said."

Gunn shifted in his seat. This was still a sore subject among the group of friends. Their failure in finding the people who murdered Connor's family seemed to eat at them daily. "Yeah, his whole family's gone. Angel's all he's got left."

She nodded and seemed to take that information in for a few moments. "And B's got a bun in the oven, huh? Amazing. That guy just cranks 'em out." The joke was poor and she said it in almost a whisper. She really was happy for Buffy. Jealous, but happy. Sighing, Faith shifted in her seat and readjusted her sunglasses. Thinking of Buffy and Angel expecting a child was almost too much for the slayer to comprehend. A fleeting part of her wondered when she would have that kind of happiness. That part of her retreated quickly into her subconscious.

Robin and she had worked out for a while. For almost a year, they had been happy together, traveling throughout Europe, finding slayers. She almost wished he would have turned out to be evil, or would have betrayed her horribly in some way. Instead, though, it had been mutual misunderstandings that left their relationship broken and crumpled. As hard as she tried, she just couldn't seem to get it together for him and he couldn't seem to be patient enough with her.

Glancing at Gunn, she smiled to herself. She remembered the flirting that had gone on between her and the handsome black man the first time Faith had met him in L.A. She wondered if he had a pregnant girlfriend somewhere too.

As they pulled into the parking lot of Wolfram and Hart, Faith couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She remembered the people that worked in this building and for this corporation as being so inherently evil that they hired her to kill Angel. Shivering a little at the memory, she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable as they walked into the building and stepped into the elevator. She was glad there was no one here who would remember who she had been in those years.

Just as she thought she would safe from the harsh criticism of anyone who would have known her before the Sunnydale apocalypse, she caught sight of Wesley. She opened her mouth to say something but was stunned speechless as the man came closer. He was gorgeously rugged and focusing a disarming grin in her direction. Taking the offered hand, they exchanged pleasantries for a short moment before going into the conference room. Surprised at the warm reception, Faith said very little to former watcher. She wasn't sure what she could say to the man she had previously tortured almost to death.

Angel was already in the room. He was flanked by Will and Connor. Faith had to hide her laughter, although she suspected she did it poorly. Seeing will in slacks and button down almost undid her. His new choice of hair style, he thought, was the perfect finishing touch. The man she had known as Spike was really dead, she realized. She and Will shock hands, both of them giving the other a very amused look. Faith sobered when she shook Connor's hand. She remembered Angel's son as precocious, flirtatious and headstrong. The man she was being reintroduced to was none of those things. This man looked as though he had seen hell one to many times.

Once everyone was seated and coffee had been passed around, Angel decided it was time to start the official part of the meeting. Connor had been included because Angel thought the normalcy of the proceedings would comfort the young man. Besides that, there was precious little for his son to do at the office. Will would soon take Connor aside and go through information and leads, but until then the young man would have to sit through a Council meeting and Faith's orientation.

"We decided, in the interest of time, to meet with Willow and Giles before we go see the sites. They have pictures and information on all three sites so they're already pretty well appraised of our options." Angel lifted a remote and aimed it at the far wall. The wall slid down into the cabinet and a television was revealed. The screen was split, Willow's smiling visage was on one side and Giles was seen on the other.

"Alright. Giles, Willow's told you that Wolfram and Hart agrees with all the stated objectives of the proposal. We have no changes to offer. Do you want to change any aspect of the agreement before we proceed?"

"No. The Council has no objectives and wishes to move on with the agreement."

"Good. Moving on."

Willow's snickering cut through the moment of silence. "That was pompous."

The entire group seemed to lighten at that remark. Gunn responded. "It was necessary. We need legally binding contracts to do all this. Even business with friends is still business."

"Agreed. Okey-dokey. Faith, thanks again for signing on for this. And Angel, it's great that you agreed to everything."

"It was a well written proposal, Willow. Besides that, I think it's a good idea. Now, let's talk about students. Who's coming to this school?"

Giles cleared his throat before speaking. "The slayers from the West coast, of course, will be included. There are a total of ninety-three students that have applied to the school. Twenty-eight of those students are currently enrolled in Slayer Academies in Europe. They are, mostly, the students that moved to be included in the schools but are originally from the states. They would like to be closer to home, which is understandable.

The others are slayers in the states that either couldn't afford the move to Europe or the U.K. or they were unwilling to move that far. The school in Cleveland has been working fairly well, but the location is too small and the leadership leaves something to be desired. Thirty of the ninety-three applicants will stay in Cleveland or be moved there. They are already advanced students, doing well, and there is no reason to send them to the new academy.

So, we have sixty-three students coming to L.A. They are scheduled to arrive within ten weeks. We have a little less than two months to get this school ready for them."

Angel nodded and sipped his coffee. "Okay. Sixty-three students. The locations we're looking at are old high schools. They're all big and we have crews standing by at each to begin new construction. We'll expand half the classrooms into small gyms. The other half of the rooms will stay the way they are, for classes. We'll build dormitories nearby. It will be like a college town, basically. Two months isn't long enough, really, to build the facilities we need, but we can put them in hotels and other places until the dorms are built."

Faith took a deep breath. "So what am I supposed to do with these girls? I can't teach all of them."

"I understand that," Giles said, "we're sending two teachers from the London branch to you. You'll need to fill out the staff. I'm sure Angel already has a few people in mind. One of Dawns' old professors has volunteered to come teach. There are five slayers that have completed their training and have been in the field for almost five years. You'll remember Rona and Vi. They'll be coming to you."

Faith was laughing lightly under her breath. "So, what you're saying is that we're screwed. I mean, absolutely screwed. We have five slayers coming to teach what? Fighting techniques? I remember Rona and Vi. They sucked. I mean, I'm sure they're better now than they were back then. So, we have five senior slayers and three teachers for almost seventy people? What am I going to do with that?"

Angel cleared his throat. "Dawn's going to be teaching for a while. She's moving to part time status here so she can teach a class. We're going to schedule it like a college. We'll start with twelve classes and they can pick as many as the feel comfortable taking. Dawn's taking a class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Her old professor, Dr. Wilkins, is taking three classes. The people Giles is sending us, Dr. Abrams and Dr. Palmer will be taking three classes each. That's ten. We need to find one other person to teach two classes. I think I have someone in mind, he teaches part time at UCLA. Dr. Saller. He's good.

"The five slayers coming," he looked at his notes, "Rona, Vi, Samantha, Carla, and Victoria; they'll run training sessions. Those are separate from the classes. Each girl will have to attend at least one training session a day and they'll last about two hours each. I have three personal trainers I've hired to work at the gym we're going to build.

We need each person teaching, there's five, to take about ten girls as advisees. You know, to help them choose classes. Faith, even though you're going to be head master, I want you to take five girls on as advisees. We'll work it so that each slayer has an advisor. Anyway, that's the plan."

He looked at Faith, hoping that she would still be interested. Shaking her head, she fought a smile and failed. "Alright. Sounds kosher. So, we need to assign classes to everybody and print up like a brochure or something. And we need to pick a place to put this school."

The group briefly discussed the nature of the classes but decided that the professors would be given a lot of leeway in choosing what they wanted to teach. After a few hours of the meeting, everyone was ready to continue their conversations at a later date. Goodbyes were said and Angel made sure Connor would be alright without him the rest of the day. The young man seemed a little cheered after the meeting.

It was nearly lunch and Angel was regretting not eating much breakfast. After asking Faith to lunch, he and the slayer left the law office. The drive was quiet. Faith was contemplating what her role was to be with this operation and Angel was making lists of all the things that needed to be done. Lunch was short and conversation revolved mostly around Faith's traveling and Angel's expectant fatherhood.

By the time they reached the first site, Faith was in a much better mood than she had been when he had walked off the plane. Angel was funny and making small talk with him was a lot less painful than she had imagined it would be. They traveled between different potential academy sites, reminiscing throughout the long afternoon. After hours of perusing their options, they both agreed on the site that seemed best.

As Angel dropped Faith off at her hotel, they hugged. Faith had to admit, it was nice to see the person that had always believed in her, even when she was trying to kill him. Angel had been the only one that had given her more second chances than she deserved. As she let her hair down and changed into clothes more appropriate for the club scene, she smiled. It was going to be nice to be back in the family.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 38

Stretching, Dawn looked behind to see her naked paramour lying on the bed. Smiling to herself, she twirled around the bedroom like a ballerina. He laughed softly behind her.

"You're happy."

"Good sex always makes me happy."

His laughter stopped, not abruptly, but entirely. "Is that all this is? Good sex?"

She stopped her impromptu ballet recital to look at him. Putting her hands on her hips, she let her shoulders slouch a little and stared at him. "What is this supposed to be? What do you want it to be?"

Standing suddenly, he reached for his pants and started to violently pull them on. Her hands on his arms did not stop his movements. He finally stopped putting his shirt on when she started screaming.

"Will you stop yelling? They're going to think I'm killing you! Hell, that's all I need, the cops to come when the neighbors call 9-1-1!"

"Where are you going? Will, what's wrong?"

"I'm your sex object, that's what's wrong! I'm not your toy you can use whenever you feel like, Dawn! I'm not a damn dildo!"

She stopped dead. For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of her hand cracking across his face. Both their breaths were coming hard as Will realized there was a very rapidly warming spot on his face. Reaching out faster than she could comprehend, he grabbed her arms and spun her into the bed. She hit the mattress hard and felt him grab her to turn her over onto her back.

Fear rose in her momentarily as he straddled her, holding her wrists none to gently. "This is what it feels like to be used. You want me to be that man? I can be him again, you know. This is who I used to be. I wouldn't ask politely, I wouldn't care about your pleasure. I'd use you. That's what I did to your sister. Do you want that? I can do that."

She stared at him, shocked. "No. I don't want that." Before he could read her movements she swung one of her long legs around and caught the side of his face with her shin. She had almost dislocated her hip to do the movement, but it worked in throwing him off. She spun her backside just enough to get momentum and kicked him full force in the chest.

He went flying off the bed. She jumped a few feet away from him, crouched low to the ground. Even naked, she didn't feel intimidated by him. "I'm not my sister."

He stood slowly, anger plain on his face. "I never said you were you stupid bint. Don't treat me like I don't matter to you."

She straightened up and grabbed a sheet to draw around her. Somehow, fighting naked wasn't frightening; having an intimate conversation naked was awkward. "You matter. You matter more than I can say, Will. I just…god, this is hard. This can't get serious. It can't. Buffy would be devastated…and the others…no one would understand."

His fist smashed into the wall, sending tiny shards of plaster across the room. He heard her give a surprised yelp. Will's day after the Council meeting had mainly comprised of showing Connor leads for his familys' murder. It had been emotionally difficult work, especially when the young man had asked to see the crime scene photos. Will had felt raw and exposed all day; Connor's pain had been palpable and contagious. He had accompanied Dawn to her apartment after taking Connor home expecting to relax. Instead, he had felt even more exposed after their romp on the sheets.

"I'm tired of this! I'm tired of being your sex toy! I'm done, Dawn. This has either got to go further than drinks and sex or it has to stop completely. Do you understand? I can't keep doing this. Five, six years ago, I wouldn't have given this another thought if you had been the woman you are now. Today though, I can't do this. I can't be the man that doesn't give a damn any more!"

She waited for him to run out of air. With every word he spoke he seemed to deflate a little more. She could never admit it to him, but she was afraid of falling in love with him. Dawn had grown up in a world where love was painful and to be feared. Her parents had split, and not amicably. She had watched the saga of Buffy and Angel as a little girl and listened to her sister cry night after night for a long time. Dawn wasn't sure that love was a good thing. As far as she could tell it only led to pain and regret.

"Will…this won't work. You and I can't be together. I just…" She was cut off by his rapid movements toward the door. He had grabbed his shirt and shoes and was running down the stairwell before she had stepped through the doorway. She couldn't very well run down the stairs and into the street into a bed sheet and he knew that. He peeled away from the curb towards downtown before he could realize that his cheeks were wet.

Disgusted with himself, he slipped his shirt on at the first red light. Using the sleeve of his shirt, he wiped the tears from his eyes and dried his face. He pulled into the parking lot of the loudest and most undiscriminating club on the strip. Buttoning his shirt entirely, he pulled his socks and shoes on in the parking lot. He looked rumpled and unkempt, but he entered the club none the less.

Ordering two large vodkas over ice, he found a small table in a corner and starting drinking. He was vaguely aware of time passing, but nothing seemed to matter at that moment. He was mourning a relationship that hadn't even existed, he knew, but he felt the need to mourn none the less. After six or seven drinks, he was a few sheets to the wind. It was then that he noticed an opening forming in the middle of the dance floor.

Craning his neck over the ledge in front of him, he looked down into the sunken dance floor. A woman in a tight tank top cut above her naval and black cargo pants and sneakers was dancing her heart out. She was doing something he vaguely recognized as hip-hop dancing. Watching her was intoxicating; she was moving her body in almost inhuman ways. It wasn't until the song changed and the crowd was roaring that he recognized who he had been watching.

Smiling drunkenly, he waved to her, trying to get her attention. When she finally noticed him, she gave him a wry smile and came to join him. He could smell that she had been drinking also.

"I can only do that when I'm plastered, you know." Taking a seat next to him, she ordered another drink.

"That was sexy, Faith."

"Yeah. I got into it in England. There's this whole underground movement thing there."

They drank and yelled over the music in order to talk to each other. After nearly half an hour of laughing and talking they headed to the dance floor. Will was an excellent dancer; he could move his hips in ways she had seen few men move. Wondering if that extended to other avenues of interest, she kept grinding with him.

Will was vaguely aware that he was grinding his personal areas into Faiths' behind. He could almost grasp that he drunk and flirting and grinding with a slayer he had once gotten into a knock down drag out fist fight with. Nothing registered in his drunken brain fully. Faith wasn't as drunk as Will, but she was certainly tipsy. Throwing her knee across his back, she forced her hips to do wave like motions into his groin area.

Will didn't entirely remember leaving the club. He didn't remember the cab ride at all. He had fleeting memories of tearing Faith's clothes off and watching her move her naked form over his. Standing in front of the mirror the next morning, his head pounding and his eyes burning, he tried to remember if they had had sex or just fooled around until he passed out. It didn't matter, he knew. It was over. Everything he could have built with Dawn was over after this affair.

Feeling her anger rise, he mentally told himself that she had ended it last night, not him. He reasoned that he hadn't cheated on her since she never said they had a relationship. In fact, he reminded himself, she had been the one to end whatever kind of relationship that did have. Rinsing his face with cold water, he left his bathroom and went into the bedroom. He had no idea what had possessed him to take Faith to his apartment instead of going to her hotel. Slapping himself mentally, he wondered what he was going to say to Faith when she woke up.

Looking into the kitchen, he saw her in his robe making coffee. Swallowing hard, he silently took a seat.

"I'll leave soon. I just need some coffee before I go."

Looking up, he let the surprise play across his features. "You don't have to go. I mean, I'm not kicking you out."

She laughed. "Yeah, they all say that, but secretly, you want me the hell out of here. You want me to go back to whatever corner I came from. I get it, its okay."

"It's not like that at all. Look, I'm sorry for what happened last night. I was out of line, I shouldn't have…"

"What? Knocked boots with me? Yeah, I know. No one should touch this; I'm no good for anybody. But listen, no hard feelings. We got drunk, had a good time. It's all good, right?"

She turned to look at him and saw the look on his face. She stopped her motions and just stared at him. "Who is she?"

Startled, he looked up from the table. "Who?"

"Whoever I was playing second fiddle to last night. I know that look when I see it."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "It ended last night. I mean, she ended it. I…I don't know. I didn't go out looking to pick someone up. I just wanted to forget for a while."

Nodding, she poured the coffee. "I get that. Needing to forget how much you hurt for a while. I'm sorry I came on so strong. If I knew you were rebounding I never would have gone home with you."

He was about to speak when the doorbell rang. Rising up he went to answer the door in just track pants, his hair mussed and smelling faintly of sex and strongly of booze. When he opened the door, his breath stopped in his chest. Dawn was standing before him holding a white paper bag and a carrier with two cups of coffee in it. He could tell by the label that the coffee and pastry were from his favorite coffee shop downtown.

He went to speak when Dawn looked over his shoulder and saw Faith started to edge her way out of the kitchen. Will had to jump back to miss the scalding coffee that was unceremoniously dropped at his feet. The look on Dawn's face told him all he needed to know. The woman wasn't stupid by any means, and another woman wearing his bathrobe this early in the morning meant only one thing.

He tried to follow her over the flood of coffee spreading over his hardwood floors, but received angry words and even angrier fists for his efforts. Stopping in the hallway outside his apartment, he felt his heart break as he watched Dawn storm down the staircase and into the lobby. Swallowing hard, he grabbed his hair and fought the urge to pull it out.

Faith was on her hands and knees with a towel cleaning up the coffee. She hadn't felt this guilty in a very long time. Screaming at herself internally, she hoped she wasn't going to be the reason that Will and Dawn would split but secretly knew that she already was. When she looked up, she watched Will step over her and into the kitchen. She watched as he proceeded to break every dish within reach. He then moved onto the small appliances. His kitchen was a wreck, strewn with debris by the time he was done.

Wiping his face, he realized with frustration that his cheeks were damp. His hands were bleeding from broken glass and his head hurt. His heart hurt the worse, though. He felt as though it had been torn from his body and run over with a semi truck. Looking up, he finally realized that Faith was still there. It took her a split second to raise and go into the bedroom. It was another three seconds before she was dressed and heading out the door.

Will wanted to apologize to her. He wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault. Instead, he said nothing. He felt out of words. Going into the bathroom, he turned the shower on. Broken hearted or not, he still had to go to work.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 39

Buffy looked nervous. He noticed as soon he walked into the bedroom. She was pacing back and forth, an anxious look on her face.

"Buffy? Buffy, what's wrong?"

Her eyes were red and swollen; she had obviously been crying. Sitting down, she tried to take a few deep breaths. "I'm sorry Angel. I'm sorry; I don't mean to be such a big baby. I was having Braxton-Hicks this morning and I got scared. Then I thought, 'what if this really is labor?' and then I got even more scared. Then I thought about the fact that my mom won't be here to see my baby." She burst into a sob as she spoke the last sentence. She sat on the bed, leaning forward, her arms hanging limply at her sides as she balled.

Trying to focus on what would be most important, he asked, "Are you in labor?"

She shook her head. "No. I called the doctor and he said they were false contractions. They could happen all the time from now until I give birth. They're gone now. But what if I had been in labor?" Her sobbing started anew and Angel was confused as to how to comfort her.

Sitting next to her, he pulled her closer to his. "I'm sorry Buffy. I'm sorry your mom won't be here to see you give birth or hold our baby. I'm really sorry for all that. But…I think she would have been very happy and that you would be making her very proud. So, I think you should remember that, Buffy."

She nodded and tried to take a deep breath through her blocked nose. Her sobbing reached new decibel levels as she tried to communicate to Angel that her nose was blocked. After going into the bathroom to get her tissues, he sat next to her and waited for her to blow her nose. He was starting to realize that she needed to cry. The combined stresses of what had been happening in the last year were finally taking their toll on the pregnant slayer.

He held her and rocked her back and forth while she cried. Whispering reassurances in her ear, he rubbed her belly with one hand. He waited for over twenty minutes for her to cry herself out. When she seemed out of tears he rose to get her more tissues. Maybe she needed to do this a few times a decade, he reflected wryly. She seemed too exhausted to rise from the bed so Angel took her slippers off her feet and slipped the blankets over her. Watching her for a few moments, he waited for his love to fall asleep before rising and leaving the room.

Sighing deeply, Angel dragged his hands through his hair. He hoped Buffy wouldn't suffer from post partum depression, but it seemed as if she was already heading in that direction. As Angel made his way downstairs he looked out through the patio doors. Connor was throwing combinations at an invisible opponent.

Angel briefly considered leaving his son to be by himself, but quickly discarded the idea. Quietly making his way onto the patio, he watched a bedraggled Connor punching and kicking at the air in graceful yet stilted movements.

"You could use a partner."

"Are you volunteering?" Connor didn't stop his movements, but waited for Angel to step into it or block a move.

Angel chose to take the defensive. Connor seemed to need to relieve tension, and having a living punching bag would certainly help ease his frustrations. Dodging and ducking, Angel easily avoided Connor's movements. Deftly moving himself mere centimeters from Connor's arms and legs, Angel waited for the young man to really start putting effort into the moves.

Finally, Connor became frustrated. Then the young teenager that Angel remembered fighting starting to emerge once again. The Connor of yesteryear, an angry and combative young soul, emerged to give Angel an entirely decent workout. Connor was ferocious in his kicks and devastating in his punches. Angel managed to dodge most of them but did catch a few glancing blows. He was sure his arms and legs would be sore in the morning from blocking hits.

Connor suddenly unleashed a barrage of upper cuts and roundhouse kicks that took Angel off guard. The movements disintegrated as quickly as they had emerged though, and Connor was soon collapsing to the ground in a heaving and sobbing mess. Biting his lip, Angel knelt next to his son. It was almost impossible to stop himself from making a keening noise on behalf of his son's pain, but Angel somehow managed to stay silent.

He was starting to wonder if he would ever be around emotionally stable people, but laughed at the idea that he would consider himself emotionally stable. Pulling his grown son to him, he rocked the younger man in his arms, making meaningless yet comforting sounds in his ears. After a few minutes, Connor pulled away, obviously embarrassed. Trying to save the Connor from coming up with something to say, Angel helped him from the ground and into the living room.

After retrieving water and tissues for his son, Angel sat beside him on the couch, being careful not to touch Connor. Connor only wanted physical comfort when he was totally and utterly vulnerable. He was uncomfortable with it at any other time.

"Tell me what happened today."

Composing himself slightly, Connor sipped the water and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I saw pictures. Will showed me the leads, that Genero guy. They found out he was talking to a few other employees; got his phone records. Anyway, they're working that end and Will thinks we can find the guy soon. But…I asked to see pictures of…of the fire. And…oh, god, Angel." Connor put his head in his hands.

Angel fought the urge to curse Will. Connor was tenacious when he wanted to be and it was difficult to deny him what he wanted. Angel wasn't sure Will would have had a choice in showing the crime scene photos to his offspring.

"I'm so sorry, Connor." Angel gently put his hands on his sons' shoulders as he knelt before him. "We will find them, Connor. I swear that to you."

Connor merely nodded and indicated that he was going to bed. Angel nodded in response and gave his sons' shoulders a quick squeeze before watching him walk towards the stairwell. It was difficult to sleep after watching the two dearest people in his life so upset so Angel walked in a different direction.

Heading towards his study, Angel collapsed onto a leather couch. He pulled his sketch pad from behind the couch. He had been working on a very special project for Buffy for a few weeks. The sketch was one of the largest he had done in some time, but he was looking forward to framing it and hanging it in the nursery.

Smiling, he worked with his charcoals for a few hours until finally realizing he had to wake up in five hours. Sighing, he rose from the couch and covered the sketch with a special paper that would keep the charcoal from rubbing off. Setting the portrait in its hidden spot behind the couch, Angel quietly made his way upstairs and into bed.

He barely slept, but lay awake all night, tossing restlessly. Buffy didn't stir much; she had been sleeping more soundly lately. Rising when it was still dark outside, Angel scribbled a note to Buffy and changed into his jogging clothes. He hadn't been able to meet Wes, Will and Gunn as often as he had last year; they all seemed to have more pressing commitments lately. Today, though, he was sure Gunn would be out, at least.

Arriving at the beach, a cool breeze was blowing from the waves. It was too early in the day for the heat to rise too much. As Angel had suspected, Gunn was getting out of his car and was starting to stretch in preparation for his jog. Wesley was just pulling into the parking lot as Angel started stretching. Frowning, Angel realized that Will wouldn't be coming if he wasn't there already.

The three men stretched in silence and slipped their MP3 players into arm holsters. They ran in silence, the only sound to be heard on the beach was heavy breathing and the pounding of feet into sand. Angel was glad for the silence and the music pumping into his ears. He released some of the tension he had been holding recently and let his body sweat out his pain. This was a much more productive way of expressing his pain compared to his previous methods, Angel thought.

When they had cooled down and were leaning against their car hoods, Wes looked to Angel. "Where's Will?"

"Wasn't my turn to watch him."

"Uh-huh." Wesley seemed unconvinced. "His recent unexplained absences wouldn't have anything to do with a certain sister of a certain slayer, would it?"

Gunn's jaw dropped into the sand. "No way! I knew he was up to something, but Dawn? She's a kid, man! A damn kid. He's into that?"

"I suspected it." Wesley looked to Angel, presumably for confirmation.

Angel just sighed. Both men took that as all the answer needed. "Look, he's really sensitive about it. They don't want anyone to know; at least not until after Buffy gives birth. Even then, it won't be well received. So this is between just us, okay?"

"Why didn't he tell us? I'm hurt." Gunn finished toweling off and threw the terrycloth into the back of his jeep. "I mean, we tell each other everything, don't we?"

Taking that as a good cue to change the topic, Angel smiled and poked Gunn in between his ribs. "Yeah, we do. So why haven't you mentioned your little crush on a certain slayer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, Gunn. We all saw the way you were looking at Faith. It was rather obvious."

"Shit. She doesn't know, right? I mean, I'd look pretty lame."

Angel snickered and opened his car door. "I think it's a safe bet to say she had no idea. But hey, she might like you. Ask her out."

Gunn smiled and started into his own vehicle. "I just might."

The three men parted ways, each going back to their homes to shower and change. Angel lived the furthest from their meeting place, which meant that he showered and changed at the office. He drove without the radio, sighing periodically. Finally, he picked up his cell phone and dialed a number only he and possibly a few couture tailors knew. She answered on the first ring.

"I thought you would be calling."

"How are you?"

"Same. How are you?"

"Same." He waited for her to say something to break the silence. This had been the extent of their conversations as of late. He missed his Cordelia. This one was much too taciturn.

She finally spoke. "I'm going out in a little while. Want to get breakfast?"

"An hour?"

"Meet me at our usual place."

She hung up without waiting for him to confirm where he would meet her. They both knew exactly where the other one meant when they requested meetings with each other.

Showering and dressing quickly, he headed to Cordy's favorite coffee shop. When he entered the small café, he saw her sitting at a back table, her knee length blue dress hanging around the thighs of her crossed legs. Her hair was pulled back and she wasn't wearing so much makeup that she looked gothic. She looked a little like his old Cordy.

They hugged as he entered and he took stock of her. She was smiling slightly, wearing a bright blue sundress that belted at the waist was cut rather modestly around the chest and had thin straps for sleeves. Angled bangs hung on her forehead and her cheeks were slightly rouged. The most telling sign she was in a good mood, though, were her shoes. She was wearing very fashionably espadrilles. Angel now knew that she wasn't going to brood throughout their breakfast. She only wore expensive, uncomfortable shoes when she was in a good mood.

"You look good."

"I have a job interview."

Angel hid his surprise. Cordelia did not need to work. He realized that she was probably bored out of her skull, though, so decided not to ask about her choice of timing. "Where are you applying?"

Angel thanked the waitress that brought them coffee and ordered an omelet. Cordy ordered a croissant he knew she wouldn't touch and scrambled egg whites with peppers and cheese.

"A little fashion magazine that comes out locally every month. I think I'll like it. Basic secretarial work. And I don't have to work nights, which is nice. It's a regular old nine to five. And I get to keep any samples designers send to me. That's the real reason I'm applying."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad you're happy."

"I wouldn't say that. I'm not sad, though. I guess I just am, you know? I don't have a feeling right now."

"I get that."

They made small talk as they ate their breakfast, and Angel had to suppress a snicker when Cordy only picked apart her croissant but never ate it. He still knew her, he thought.

They parted ways amicably, and Cordy promised to meet him for dinner later in the week. Smiling, Angel headed towards the office. He figured his day was going to get a lot worse since it had started out so well. That seemed to be the pattern his life followed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 40

Will paced Angels' office. He had been waiting for nearly thirty minutes for the president of the company to actually show up to work. When Angel finally walked in, Will wasted no time in recounting the story of his previous night. Listening quietly, Angel unpacked his briefcase and settled papers on his desk. When he thought Will had finally finished his tirade, Angel sat on the couch near the wall length windows.

"So you screwed up."

"It was her fault! Bloody hell, Angel, what am I gonna do?" He was still pacing.

Taking a deep breath, Angel thought for a few moments before calling Wesley and asking if Dawn had come into work yet. She had not. He hung with Wes and slowly sat down in front of his pacing friend. "She never came in today. Where would she go? You need to get her to talk to you."

"She would be in her apartment talking to Dennis. I'm pretty sure that's where she would be. I don't know anymore. And what am I going to tell Faith? She thinks I'm mad at her now. Angel, why do I screw everything up? Can't I do anything right?"

"I ask myself that same question on a rather regular basis. I've been told it has something to do with being human. Anyway, call her. Keep calling her. Leave early today and go to her apartment. I wouldn't go now; she needs some time to cool off. Faith should be coming in soon, go talk to her first. That's the easier of the two to deal with right now."

"This sucks so much."

"Get out of here. I have real work to do and you have to talk to Faith."

After showing Will out, Angel sighed heavily and dropped into his chair. Everyone around him seemed to be coming apart at the seams and he was still holding strong. He was amazed that he was the one who wasn't collapsing under the pressure. Sighing again, he started going through the cases he hadn't been able to go over the previous day. Some of them were very interesting. Without Buffy in the office for the past few weeks many new conflicts had began; there was currently no one to mediate them.

Lawsuits were flying between the more developed demon nations and fights were starting between the less developed. One lawsuit dealt with an illegitimate son and stolen basket of sacrificial plants. It was very complicated.

Angel didn't recognize the passing of time until there was a soft knock at the door. Glancing briefly at the clock, he was surprised to realize it was almost one in the afternoon. Connor stepped through the large double doors and walked slowly into the office, his hands in his pockets. Taking a seat in one of the arm chairs, he looked at Angel and waited for the other man to join him. The space in front of Angels' desk was free of places for people sit; it was strategically designed that way. He didn't want anyone to get the impression that they were welcome to have meetings with him in his office. If someone wanted to talk to him, they were forced to stand in front of his desk. Only his friends and family knew enough to sit in the lounge area at the far side of the office.

Before joining his son, Angel took the opportunity to order lunch for he and Connor. Lazily putting his feet on the ottoman in front of him, Angel leaned back in his seat and focused on his son.

"So what's up?"

"Wes called me a little while ago. He said I should come in and look at some stuff. I think he just wants me to get out of the house."

"Anything new?"

Connor shook his head rather sadly. "I know they're looking for that guy. I'm just…I jut don't think we'll ever find them. I don't think we'll ever really get to make them pay. Not even that, I just want justice. That's all. Just justice."

"Justice is hard to come by some times."

Angel's secretary brought in salads and sandwiches and set them on the coffee table in front of the two men. After thanking her, Angel asked her to have Wesley call him later. Nodding her ascent, she left the office, leaving the two men alone once again. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Angel spoke.

"Connor, we will find these people. It takes time. I know that's hard to listen to, but it's true. It could take a long time to find these people. They were very good, very careful. And to be honest…we don't know what they had planned as their end game. I can't imagine they just wanted to torture you for fun. I think there was some larger plan. I'm not sure what that is yet though."

Chewing slowly, Connor considered his fathers' words carefully. He didn't want to try and be patient. He didn't want to wait nicely; he wanted to go through the streets and beat things into bloody pulps until he found the people who had destroyed his life. When he really thought about what his father was saying, though, he realized that there was more in store for him. Angel was right, Connor realized, there was no reason to kill his family and then let him alone. There had to be a bigger purpose, a higher goal than depressing and destroying him. He wasn't that important.

"What could be the end game? What would be the purpose of torturing me? I'm nobody. I don't even hunt demons anymore. I'm no threat to anyone."

Angel swallowed hard; fighting the guilt that was starting to wash over him in great cascading waves. "You're my son. That's enough to make you a threat. There are great plans for your life, Connor. You weren't meant to live through what you lived through without fighting for a purpose. I mean, Connor, you grew up in hell. You're one of the best trained warriors this side has because you didn't learn in a gym or a dojo, you learned on the field from the time you could talk and walk. Crawl, probably. And as much as I regret that and as much as I wish I could change that…it's who you are.

I tried to change it, actually, and now I'm sorry for that. I just keep causing you pain. But Connor…you are not a nobody. You're a prophesized miracle child. That means something. You mean something to the balance of things. That makes you a target. I tried to change that by giving you a new life, a life where you didn't even know who you really were. I thought you'd be safe then…but things just keep happening. Twice you got your memories back. That makes me think you were meant to have them."

Angel swallowed hard and pursed his lips. He hadn't meant to say all that. He had planned a very short and comforting sentence, but instead had bared part of his soul. He cursed his traitorous tongue. Glancing at Connor, he saw his son frozen in his movements. Connor was staring at the carpet, a haunted look on his face.

"I try not to think about how I grew up." His voice was a low whisper; there was a dangerous quality to it that reminded Angel of a time very long ago and a very different Connor. "I try not to think about my life before. I don't want to think about it. I want to know it's there, it means I'm not crazy, but I don't want to dwell on it."

"I'm not sure you're going to have a choice Connor. I think you're being forced to recognize your past, own it. I just…I've had this theory. You won't like it and I don't think I should tell you about it…but I'm going to. You weren't meant to have the life I had built for you. You weren't meant to be normal. Someone or something knows that. They took away your option of having that life. They destroyed it so utterly that you can't go back to it. That's my theory, anyway."

Angel waited, holding his breath, for Connor to respond. If he were his son, Angel thought, he would not want to hear what had just been said.

"You're right. I fucking hate that theory. That…sucks." Connor stood violently. He looked ready to destroy something but didn't know what. Angel recognized that his son was full of impotent rage and it would destroy him if he didn't use it, express it.

Connor started to pace the room, his fists clenching and unclenching in rhythmic movements. His gentle swagger was gone, replaced by the dangerous stalking motions that he used to employ. Angel sat forward more, ready to restrain his son if he needed. The look in Connor's eyes had changed from pain and guilt to murderous rage. Angel was now looking at the man who had leapt out of Quor'Toth. The passive art history major who listened to The Beatles and his girlfriends' poetry had disappeared entirely.

"You're saying that someone wanted to force me to fight. By taking away my life they thought I would have to join your life. That's what you're saying?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying."

Angel didn't see the punch coming. He was on the ground, fists flying into him at incredible speeds. His first instinct was to turn himself into a ball and cover his head. Instead, he lashed out and grabbed one of the super-speed wrists coming towards him. Pulling Connor down to the ground, he flipped his son onto his front and straddled him, making sure that he hit pressure points hard enough to let Connor know he was serious. Breathing hard, Angel put two fingers to a pressure point in Connor's neck.

"I will hit this and you won't be able to move. I am not the enemy Connor."

"You should have killed me!" The young man was shaking with unspent rage and sobs. "You should have killed me in that mall! I shouldn't even be alive! I shouldn't have been born."

Angels' breath caught. His eyes watered. "I did kill you. That was the deal, Connor. I had to kill you so you could be remade into a new version of you. I did kill you." His voice broke as he spoke. His son wished he had never had born, wished to be dead, and there was nothing Angel could do to ease that pain.

Connor's body went limp as he started to sob. Gently releasing his grip on the younger man, Angel climbed off of him and dragged him across the few inches in between them. "I'm glad you're alive, Connor. I don't want you dead. I never did. Never. Through everything, Connor, I only wanted you to be happy. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I tried to create a lie for you to live and that you loved it so much. I never meant for any of this to turn out this way. God, Connor, I only wanted you to be happy."

Angel realized tears had been silently sliding his cheeks. He hadn't been sobbing, he wasn't crying even, but the tears were there none the less. Connor was more vocal about his pain; he sounded like a wounded animal, sobbing and making keening noises into his father's chest. Angel's heart broke as he realized that in Connors' real life he had never been able to do this. As a child, hurt and frightened, he had never had the comfort Angel was willing to give him in that moment. Angels' heart broke a little more.

"They're fading away, Angel. They're fading away and I can't keep them."

"What's fading, Connor?"

"My memories. I think…" The man let out another sob, "I think I can't have both lives. I can't keep the memories of my family, they keep slipping away little by little and all I'll have left is…is…" Words failed him as he let himself collapse fully on the floor of his fathers' office.

Holding his son for all he was worth, Angel cried out in his mind for help, for strength. He couldn't tolerate to see his son so devastated. Connor was going to loose all the memories he had of happiness and be left with nothing but his horrible past. Angels' deepest fear was that he would loose his son again to the darkness that had previously consumed him. This time, though, he wouldn't survive four months at the bottom of the ocean.

They sat without speaking for a long time, the only sounds in the room that of Connor's immeasurable pain and his father's attempted comfort. After a time, Connor seemed to use all the tears he had at that moment. Even after the young man stopped crying, though, he let himself be comforted by his father. He could vaguely remember his created father doing so when he was a small child and had a nightmare. Those memories were becoming harder and harder to bring to the forefront of his mind, though. He remembered more easily being forced to track and kill beings five and six times his size when he was the age of first grader.

After a time without tears, Connor slowly pulled away and leaned against the couch. He felt as though he had been hit by a large bus. Never before had he known exhaustion the way he had in the past few months. Physical exhaustion seemed not to compare to the fatigue his mind and emotions were causing him. Glancing at his father, he saw the older man quickly wiping away the dampness from his cheeks. Connor felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he realized that his father cried for him.

Dragging himself off the floor, he collapsed onto the couch to watch Angel pick himself up off the floor. Connor didn't feel the need to move for a very long time. Leaving his son in his office, hopefully to fall into an exhausted sleep, Angel went to Wesley's office.

He walked slowly down the hallways, taking the back ways most people didn't like to travel. He avoided the elevators, instead taking the stairs, as he tried to clear his mind at least a little bit before he talked to Wesley.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the office door. It was time to step up their efforts. He wasn't going to watch his son die a little more every day if he could anything to help it.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 41

"I want this guy found; I don't care how we do it. And then I'm going to question him, alone. Connor can't know about it."

"I was thinking about contacting Willow, asking if perhaps she could try and locate Genero."

"I don't care how you do it, Wes, but I want him by the end of the day. Understand? You have eight hours to make it happen."

Turning on his heel, Angel left the office. He hadn't meant to get so hot under the collar and he certainly hadn't meant to speak to Wesley so harshly, but he figured his friend would give him a break considering the circumstances. Dragging his hands through his hair, Angel started up the stairwell that would lead to the floor that Will inhabited.

Angel didn't bother to knock to enter that office. Will was leaving a message on Dawn's phone, Angel presumed for about the hundredth time that day. Sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of Will's desk, he listened to a rather pitiful message being left for Dawn. After Will hung up, Angel watched him for a few minutes before he spoke.

"I just gave Wesley an order to find Genero by any means necessary."

Will's eyes widened. "With Wesley, that could mean a lot of things."

"I'm aware of that. That's why I went to him."

"I see." Steeping his fingers, Will rested his elbows on his desk and narrowed his eyes in Angel's direction. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get Xander and go through every nook and cranny of this guy. I mean, even the stuff you've done before, do it again. The two of you need to find his family, his friends. If we can't find him, we'll go after them. I don't care if we have his ninety year old grandmother arrested for jay walking, I want to get this guys' attention."

"I can do that. Let me get this strait though, any means necessary? You haven't been willing to go this far for a long time."

"It's a long time coming. I'm tired of playing by the rules with these people. I want to get their attention. No more keeping this secret, either, I want to scare them up. Let's start making some noise about this."

Nodding, a slightly devious smile came to his face. "I can start this immediately?"

"Absolutely. I want results within the next eight hours."

Standing, Angel made his way out of the office without further comments. Taking a deep breath, he fished his phone from his pocket and secreted himself away in a small nook in the hallway. There were pressing questions he had been forcing himself to keep from asking for a long time that finally needed answering. She answered, as always, on the first ring.

"Didn't I just see you?"

"Have you had any visions you're not telling me about?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "I have a lot of visions I don't tell you about. I take care of it."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Cordy. Have you had any visions about Connor?"

He waited for a few unbearable seconds, his mind screaming for her to deny his unspoken acquisition and put him at ease. He wished with every fiber of his being that she would deny what he already knew was true. If she lied, though, he knew he wouldn't press her further. He would accept her lies as truth if only to help their already strained relationship survive; if only to believe that she was who he wanted her to be.

"Yes. I have. I didn't tell you because it wasn't the right time to tell you. I saw his family die. It wasn't a vision I was meant to share, it was a punishment I had to endure. I was warned not to tell anyone. It had to happen that way."

He didn't breathe, he didn't think. He just spoke. "Anything else you haven't told me?"

"You'll find out everything I know by tonight. I'm not a magic eight ball, Angel; I can only tell you what I am allowed to."

"That shitty excuse has never stopped you before. You never compromised yourself for the fucking powers and you know it, Cordy. Congratulations on finally being their crony." He hung up unceremoniously, hoping that the resounding click would linger in her head and haunt her. Slapping himself mentally, he told himself that was childish and probably not going to happen. She would probably feel bad for about five minutes and then roll her eyes.

Breathing deeply, he walked purposely back to his office. As he expected, Connor was asleep on the couch, tossing a little and mumbling incoherently. He was haunted in his dreams but too tired to wake up. Being as quiet as possible, Angel sat back down at his desk and started scribbling a few proposals on a yellow legal pad. He was afraid typing would wake his son, and when he was perfectly honest with himself, he admitted that he was old fashioned enough to prefer writing.

Two of the letters he wrote were sent to his secretary to be typed before they would be sent back to him for a final approval and his signature. One was addressed to Willow and Giles; he still had to be legal and official, even with his friends. The other was for the entire legal team finalizing the budget for the fiscal year. As he continued in his work, he found that he was eyeing his phone every few minutes, expecting someone to call him and report that they had found Genero.

With that thought, he quickly started comprising a list of methods to more properly and thoroughly screen job applicants. He had covered an entire page was moving onto the second when Connor stirred. Quickly finishing the sentence he had started, Angel slipped the pages into the fax machine and sent them to his secretary.

Connor sat up slowly, rubbing his hands over his burning eyes as he did so. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"You should try sleeping at night. Could solve your sleeping during the day problem."

Connor gave him a wry, sarcastic smile and Angel had to grin. Perhaps there was still something left of Connor beneath the grief.

"Yeah, I'll try that dad."

Connor seemed not to realize what he had said, but the words stopped the breath in Angels' lungs. Connor had called him dad, his suddenly sluggish brain fully realized. Connor had used the word dad and associated it with Angel. His heart leapt in his chest as his breath returned. Grinning at his son, he stood from the desk and sat next to Connor on the couch.

"Do you want anything? Do you need anything?"

"I'm okay. Sorry about the breakdown earlier." The embarrassment was evident on Connors' face.

Shaking his head, Angel quickly responded. "Don't apologize. None of us are made of steel all the time. We have to buckle once and a while and you have more than enough reason to do so."

Connor nodded ascent but it was obvious to Angel that his son didn't believe his words. He was too young, Angel reflected, to realize that he needed to be weak sometimes. Angel knew that he, himself, had learned that lesson the hard way. A delusional fever and months of self torture had been needed in order to teach Angel he wasn't strong all the time and didn't need to be.

"Would you like to go home? I can call you if anything happens."

Connor gave his father a sad smile. "I'd rather stay here if it's alright. I don't want to miss anything."

"You won't. Go home Connor, I'll call you if anything happens. And tell Buffy I'll be late; I have some meetings with human resources tonight. Hiring procedures." Angel's conscious pricked him a little, but he ignored it. Lying now would be beneficial later. Connor couldn't know the deadline Angel had given Wes and Will; the younger man would want to involved. The methods Angel was planning on employing were not appropriate for his sons' eyes.

Patting Connors' shoulders, Angel showed him out of the office. Releasing a breath he hadn't known he had been holding Angel waited a few minutes before leaving for Will's office. As he opened the door, though, he was confronted with Wesley. The other man's hand was raised as if to knock, but he simply lowered it and raised an eyebrow before stepping into Angels' office.

"I take it Connor's gone."

Nodding, Angel crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. "What have we got?"

Wesley handed Angel a piece of paper with an address written on it. Paper clipped to the paper was a picture from of a security camera of a man that looked to be the one they had been searching for. At Angel's raised eyebrow, Wesley explained.

"We need to rearrange my budget; I bribed three of our employees to find out that Genero used to frequent a certain part of Pasadena. Xander has those three employees now; he's questioning them about their involvement. I then had to bribe a lieutenant of the Pasadena Police Force to get me all the video footage of the area for the past week. Fred used a computer program to pick out his image from the dozens of digital files."

"How did you get the three employees to talk to you?"

"I posed on the phone as someone looking for Genero and hinted towards being involved in a cult he was also affiliated with. Apparently, these people talked with Xander before; they had been after work drinking buddies with Genero. None of them would say anything remotely indicating themselves in the conspiracy, but it's clear they were aware that Genero was part of something very questionable."

"Good work Wes. How much should I tell finance to front you?"

"You'll get the bill, believe me. I think the lieutenant will be able to put his daughter through college for four years debt free. The employees, obviously, were not sent any real amounts of money." Wesley gave Angel a small, tight, smile. This had cost them a pretty penny. Whatever the amount, though, it was a small price to pay by Angels' estimations.

Angel was glad that Wesley would do whatever necessary when asked to, even bribe an upstanding and moral officer of a police department. He felt guilty for not giving the go-ahead to this earlier. Indicating that Wesley should have a seat at the conference table, Angel called Will. The other man didn't answer his office phone, but did answer his cell phone.

"What have you got?"

"Give me ten minutes and I'll come and show you. Xander's coming too." Will hung up before Angel would respond.

Sitting at the head of the oval conference table, Angel rested his elbows on the shiny surface and steeped his fingers. They were going to pull out all the stops this time. They weren't going to pussyfoot around this any longer, he told himself. It was time to find justice for his son. Looking up at the opening of the door he saw a serious looking Will walk in accompanied by a rather unhappy Xander. The two men sat down after without a word.

Will began without preamble. "They knew something. Not sure what, but those three knew Genero was involved in something very unsavory. One of them, I'm pretty sure, was in on it too. He indicated it didn't go very high in the company, though that could have been a red herring. I'm inclined to agree with him, though, I think this was an outside job; these four employees were just cannon fodder."

"Someone's providing a new life for our guy, though. Who's the financer?"

"I'll get to that, don't rush me. Anyway, you said to send a message. Well, I sent one. The one I think was involved, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure of that, is now without a tongue. I think that will tell his bosses all they need to know. The other two are in perfect physical condition, but they may need therapy for the rest of their lives; they watched me do it. And I didn't do it quickly." Will's eyes darkened dangerously.

"Good. I want them to suffer. Send a bigger message than that, Will; that's a whisper."

"Don't worry, Peaches. I put a calling card out there. Besides his tongue, I took his ear. I sent the ear to Genero, who will likely take it to the higher ups. And it's bugged. As is the box. Wherever that ear goes, we go."

Nodding approval, Angel looked to Xander; he wondered what part the man played in this. Xander leaned back, exuded an angry confidence. "They wouldn't talk to me and I'm a pretty good interrogator. Not as good as Will; I got to watch his techniques. I'm pretty pissed because I thought I did a good job. Apparently not, though. I want in on this. We need to send a very loud message that you cannot work for the other side and be employed by this company."

Wesley, who had been silent up until then, slid the paper and picture he brought across the table. "Where did you send the ear? This picture was taken at a Pasadena ATM."

"Genero has a P.O. box he uses sometimes. It's registered to a cousin of his. The newly tongue-less one told me that before I preformed surgery."

Angel stood slowly and with purpose. He was ready to bring these people in. "Let's follow that ear. Xander and Wes, go to the P.O. box. Will and I will go to the presumed location of this guy's new apartment. When will the package arrive?"

"I had a courier deliver it. It should be there within the next half hour. The P.O. box is in Pasadena."

"Let's go then." Angel led the group out the door and down into the parking deck. Choosing two cars that were not connected to Wolfram and Hart in any way, the quartet of men started on their way to Pasadena.

Angel got into the passenger seat of the car as Will took his place behind the wheel. Pulling out his cell phone, Angel dialed home and hoped against hope that Connor wouldn't answer the phone. His son had refused to answer the phone since moving in and Angel hoped that trend would continue until the end of the night. Buffy finally answered just before the answering machine picked up.

"Hello?"

"Buffy, listen, I'll be late tonight. Very late."

There was a pregnant pause as Buffy considered the implications of that statement. "Human Resources, huh?"

"Not quite. I'll tell when I see you in the morning, okay? Don't worry tonight."

He listened to her take a deep breath and then slowly release it. "I hope this is something big, Angel. Like save the world big, because I am going on nine months pregnant and I'm moody. I want my man to rub my feet and my back and talk to my belly." She sounded none to happy with him.

"It's important, Buffy. I can't tell you now, but I promise I will tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too." She hung up before he could say anything else.

She had sounded very displeased in the last few words. Angel was hoping he would be able to explain everything in the morning, if he had a chance to go home. Knowing there was a high probably that this would take the majority of the night; Angel wasn't really counting on returning home at all. His conscious screamed at him; he felt as though he was telling lie after lie tonight.

Hoping the outcomes of the night would be enough to make up for the white lies he had been spewing to his loved ones; he crossed his fingers and watched Will press the button that changed the radio stations. He would continue to press the buttons, Angel knew, until the man found something he liked. That could take an hour. Exhaling slowly, Angel crossed his arms across his chest, glad for the warmth of the vehicle, and stared out the window. They were nearing their destination when Will finally found a station he liked and stopped pressing buttons on the console.

Angel smiled in spite of himself. Even on their worst missions, he could still find humor in his surroundings. He thanked the heavens for small gifts and hoped the night would yield yet larger ones.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 42

Will drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. His day had not gone well and although part of him thought that taking his frustrations out on former employees was wrong, another part of him rationalized it with the excuse that Angel had said any means necessary. Faith had been uneasy speaking with him at first, but she quickly realized he wasn't angry and didn't want to pick a fight. She seemed very averse to fighting with him.

Dawn was not so easy to talk to. She hadn't answered her phone any of the thirty-seven times he had called her. Eventually, sometime around the twentieth call, she had shut her phone off. He had been leaving messages for her all day. When he called the thirty-second time, he received a message that her voicemail box was full. That had been perhaps the most crushing blow. She hadn't even checked her voicemail to listen to what he had to say. She was ignoring him completely.

His compatriot beside him looked as though he was in no mood to talk. Deciding to stay silent, Will continued to berate himself in his head. Dawn was perfect in every way for him, he had decided. She was tenacious and headstrong, incredibly confident and competent in every area of life that mattered, and she liked his music and poetry. He had never shared with a woman that he played the guitar or wrote his own songs. He had considered that so personal that he couldn't share it with very many people. Angel had heard his music before and Wes, Gunn and Fred had an idea that he played, but he had never actually preformed for anyone but Angel.

He had been serenading Dawn for weeks. Unsure if she realized the depth of meaning his actions held, he wondered if she knew how much he cared for her. Will had known for a few weeks that he had been falling in love with Dawn. The woman she had become was intensely different from the girl she had been, but somehow very much the same person he had known in Sunnydale. All of her best qualities had been tempered and expanded throughout the years they had been apart.

The woman he loved was beautiful, intelligent, well spoken and articulate, sexy, a tigress in bed, and spoke her mind without care about who she offended. He loved everything about her. He also loved her vulnerability, her quiet sense of innocence that she tried to downplay, her nerdy sense of humor. She was still very much an optimist, no matter how hard the years had been or how much she had seen. If he was forced to choose a characteristic that he loved most about Dawn, it would be her undying faith in humanity as a whole. Despite all she had lived through and been intimately involved with, she still thought that people had the potential to make good decisions. It was a quality he sometimes wished he could own as well.

Sighing, he looked again at Angel. The other man still looked in no mood to talk. Looking out the window at the modest two story home in front of him, Will was struck suddenly with a vision of Sunnydale and the Summers' home. He remembered stalking around the bushes for a glimpse of the slayer, watching her mother take in groceries, her sister rushing to the family minivan to help. The absurdity of it all struck him full on in that moment.

The woman he had vowed to kill and subsequently fell in love with was now going to the mother of his best friend, and previous enemies', baby. The annoying, whiny and bratty little sister of the slayer was the woman he fantasized about spending the rest of his life with. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he remembered awkwardly babysitting in his crypt and had to laugh aloud. Opening his eyes, he caught Angel's look of incredulity and quickly straightened his grin.

"Thinking about the past," he said as way of explanation.

"I don't think the past was very funny."

"It is in hindsight."

"I guess for some people."

Will grinned sadly and tried to get himself under control. He felt as though he was riding a tidal wave and was about to be swallowed. Never before had he had difficulty concentrating while working. Now, though, his chest ached and his eyes burned with unspent tears.

"Just the absurdity of it all. They way things turned out and the way they were. I mean, look at how much all of us have changed. Remember the old Wes? What a transformation. All of us made one, you know. I just…I guess it's kind of funny now that I think about it. I never would have thought…" He trailed off sadly as his mind started turning to more painful avenues.

"Yeah. I never would have thought we'd be here either. This isn't what I planned at all."

The two men stayed silent, each lost in a world of personal demons. Both jumped when Angel's cell phone rang. Taking a deep breath, he flipped it open angrily, mad at being caught so off guard.

"What?"

"He's headed your way. Just picked up his mail. I don't think he opened it."

"Thanks Xander." The fact that this man was picking up mail this late in the evening told Angel that there had to be someone working in the mail room that alerted Genero when packages arrived. It was probably the favored method of communication between him and the people he worked for.

Angel relayed the message to Will and both men sat pensively, waiting; both were excited to expend their energies on this man. Angel had to restrain himself when he saw his prey pull up to the curb. Leaning forward, with his hand on the door latch, he motionlessly stalked his prey, his pupils narrowing to focus solely on his target. He willed every instinct he had to come to the forefront of his being. It was time to hunt.

They watched as lights were turned on. It looked as though he was in the kitchen. It was only a few seconds before their super-tuned ears heard a short scream fill the house. Few others would hear such a sound, but Angel and Will were not average people. Smiling devilishly, the two men glanced at each other before exiting the car in complete silence.

They seemed to walk a centimeter above the earth as they silently went to the back of the house. The latch on the gate that led to the modest back yard nearly disintegrated in Angel's hands. The gate squeaked almost imperceptibly as it was opened and then carefully closed. Angel had popped the doorknob of the back door nearly out of its place and was in the house before the occupant could register what was happening.

With inhuman speed, Angel went for the man. Will was behind Genero before he had even turned around fully. Before Angel could lift him by the neck more than a few inches, Wes and Xander were behind him, arms crossed, watching the proceedings. Angel had originally planned to wait and see where Will's tagged ear would go, but making the man dangling from his fist talk seemed to be a much more interesting option.

Slamming the man into a nearby wall, Angel watched plaster pieces fly as the breath was sucked for his prey's body. "You will tell me who you work for."

The former Wolfram and Hart employee was nearly lifeless, hanging in Angels' grasp, but managed to shake his head in the negative.

"Wrong answer." Angel dropped him, helping his ascent to earth by pulling and pushing all at the same time, the combined effects of which made the hapless man hit the floor hard enough to crack a few ribs. "Want to try again?"

Secretly, Angel was hoping the man wouldn't talk. He was disappointed. "I don't know names. I don't know."

"What do you know?"

"Valde Ortus."

Angels' eyes narrowed; he wanted more information and knew that his victim was slowly starting to loose consciousness. "More."

Coughing hard, the man winced as tears of pain rolled down his cheeks. "San Bernardino. I don't know anything else."

"Where in San Bernardino? Give me a location or we'll take some of your body parts that you might need someday." Angel grabbed the man's earlobe and ripped upwards for emphasis.

After he was done screaming, the man took a deep breath. "There's an office building. An insurance office. They operate out of the basement."

Realizing that he had no more information to give, Angel let go of his prey. Grinding his heel into the man's hand, he made sure that he would never use his right hand fully again. No one made eye contact with Angel as he stormed from the house. The neighbors had probably called the police already, and Angel wanted to make a speedy exit. It would do no one any good to have his face plastered on the morning news in conjunction with charges of battery and assault.

Angel drove one car as Wesley drove the other. Will was on his cell phone with Xander as each pair drove in opposite directions of the other. Will assured Xander and Wesley that they should go home. It was only after Will threatened to call Fred that Wesley agreed to go home and drop Xander off on his way. Hanging up the phone, Will looked warily at Angel.

"We're going there tonight, aren't we?"

"Yep." Angel was white-knuckling the steering wheel as he drove. They were going to be there in less than an hour the way he was driving. His goal was to get there in less than forty-five minutes.

Having every confidence that the alarm would already be sounded by the time they got there, Angel was hoping there was a fight waiting for him. There was no way that their headquarters would be cleared out by the time Angel and Will arrived. There might be twenty-four hour surveillance or manning of the facility, but Angel was sure that at this time of night it would take time to rally their troops. He was counting on having caught them with their pants down.

Angel spoke little as he drove. He was more interested in going as fast as possible on interstate 210. Praying fervently that there would be no cops to stop them, Angel pushed the car past one hundred miles per hour. They might make it in half an hour, he thought to himself. Traffic tonight was scant, and most cars were easily passed. Angel had driven a Model T and most things that had come after it. No one could catch or pass him if he didn't want them to.

Will looked unconcerned at the driving habits of his compatriot. Will wasn't very much concerned with anything at that moment. His instincts were keyed; adrenaline was pumping through his veins. He could feel that a fight was coming and his body was already preparing for it. Any earlier thoughts that had clouded his actions or judgments were gone. Clenching and releasing his fists periodically, he started to tighten and release every major muscle group in his body. Ready for a great battle, he tapped his foot impatiently and wished that Angel could drive faster. They were going almost twice the speed limit, but it wasn't fast enough to get to the fight.

Angel had known immediately what insurance company Genero had meant. He had read the file a thousand times, and he knew that Xander had found the insurance company Genero's life insurance policy was from was in San Bernardino. Angel didn't believe that much in coincidences. His mind had photographed every page he had read from every file even slightly connected to his son; he knew the addresses of every contact Genero had made in the past year by heart.

Easing the car off the interstate, Angel slowed to more manageable speeds for the side roads. Angel turned the headlights off as he slowed the car into a parking lot of a small but obviously very successful insurance company. The building looked expensive and was expensively decorated from what Angel could see. He would delight in destroying it.

Turning the motor off, Angel kept the car in gear and coasted to a spot not far from the front door. Sliding the gearshift to park, he was aware there were probably security cameras aimed at the parking lot. He was hoping that they would see them coming and try to prepare some kind of initiative. It would be a little bit of a greater challenge.

They made their way around to the back of the building. The back door had a security sticker on it, which was no deterrent to either man whatsoever. Leaping high, Angel caught the gutter of the building and used inhuman technique to flip himself over and land on his feet. Running up the roof, he listened to Will follow closely behind him. There was a ventilation shaft on the roof. Angel doubted there would be sensors that would alert a security company of their presence.

Ripping the grate away from the shaft, Angel eased himself down the thin shaft head first. Thankful for his agility, and weight loss from his previous depression, he crept down the narrow shaft. Slamming his fist downwards into the first grate he saw, he dropped into a small but tasteful office. Without bothering to check if Will was behind him, Angel strode purposefully to where he would place a secret doorway in such a building.

It took one straight kick and a shooting pain up his leg to his back for Angel to find the door was made of steel. The walls surrounding the doors, however, were not. It only took one kick, in unison, from each man to create a crater large enough to step through.

Closing his fist, Angel heard his knuckles crack. It was time to get down to business.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 43

Valde Ortus. Latin for The Great Rising. Angel was hoping that this great rising was nothing more than a few dozen men in robes calculating how to destroy the world. He could not have been more wrong.

Their wishes to meet a fight were granted as a dozen armed and well trained individuals rushed them. Getting half way down the stairwell, Angel grabbed Will's wrists and threw the other man to the other side of the fight. Launching off the stairs and into the middle of the fray, Angel fought with every fiber of his being. Even the training these men had obviously received was no match for super strength and durability.

After watching the last man fall, Angel turned his attention to the door at the far side of the room. It was unlocked; there were no special deterrents or booby traps. Stepping through, Angel's shoulders slumped at the sight before him. He had miscalculated. Seven men sat slumped onto a round conference table. All of them were dead; foam was coming from their mouths. Sniffing the air, Angel caught traces of the cyanide still lingering in the dead mans' mouths.

Slamming his fists into the wall in frustration, he looked around the room. There was nothing great about it. There were no symbols on the walls, no archaic drawings on the floor. This group wanted to be anonymous. There was nothing that could affiliate them with any hell god or goddess. Frustrated, Angel searched each body, looking for identification. Will searched the dead lackeys.

None of them had identification. With mounting frustration, the two men returned to Los Angeles, their pride hurt and initiative dampened. Angel dropped Will off at the office in silence. Sitting in his car, he looked at the clock. It was nearing two in the morning. Sighing heavily, Angel put his head in his hands for a long time. Not wanting to go home yet, he turned the car towards a familiar part of town.

Cordelia answered the door after his second set of knocks. She looked bedraggled; her eyes were red and puffy. Wearing nothing but a bathrobe over a sports bra and boxer shorts, she frowned deeply at him across the threshold of her apartment.

"You don't need permission to enter anymore, you know."

"Thanks for the reminder." He stepped into and through the living room, going straight to the kitchen.

Making coffee haphazardly, he was finally pushed out of the way by Cordelia and ordered into the bathroom to clean himself up. He hadn't realized he had blood on him until that moment. Sighing heavily, he went to the bathroom and peeled his damp shirt from his body. Blood had soaked through to his undershirt, leaving large bright red blotches. As he peeled that off as well, he winced. Looking at his shoulder in the mirror, he made a disgusted face. Someone had cut him rather deeply and he hadn't noticed.

Answering the knock at the bathroom door, he saw Cordy holding a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt. "I'll put your stuff in the wash." She pointed to blood splatters on his pants and shoes and made a motion with her hands that meant he should hand them over immediately. Frowning, he closed the door and stripped, putting on the offered underwear. He allowed her to dress his shoulder wound before putting on the t-shirt.

He sat down heavily on the couch and accepted the coffee that was thrust into his hands. Cordy sighed and curled up on the loveseat opposite Angel. She was frowning until she realized they were wearing matching boxers. Her giggles grew to full out laughter and soon she was joined by Angel, who had realized what had excited her so.

Drying her eyes, Cordy looked up her Angel. "Want to talk?"

"They were already dead."

"I know. I saw that." Sipping her own coffee, she pushed her dark bangs from her face. "And did I mention that I work day shift? This won't fly anymore sweet cheeks."

Angel smiled sadly at her use of Lorne's pet name for him. For a short moment, Angel missed his family the way it used to be. Pushing away the pain that came with that reminiscing, he concentrated on the woman in front of him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because, Angel, I knew you would come here. I didn't need a vision to see that. I knew you would go off half cocked and wind up sore and disappointed. And afterwards you would come to me for patching and comfort. Old habits die hard."

"What do you know, Cordy?"

"What am I, a palm reader? I told you, I can only tell you what I am allowed to tell you. Connor has a special purpose. He has to fulfill his destiny. And he would have a lot sooner if you hadn't messed with the fabric of reality and rewritten history. You won't like the answers I have for you Angel."

Staring at her intently, he tried to deny what she was trying to tell him. Knowing that he should stop asking questions, he continued to do so anyway. "Who are the leaders of that group?"

She sighed heavily and ran her hand over her hair. Her face softened a little as she looked at her best friend. She loved him too much to hurt him, but he seemed determined to push her to do so. "They don't have a leader. They don't even exist. Angel, there is no great conspiracy. Connor has a destiny. He is being forced to accept it. He couldn't do it if he was happy and living in a la-la land you created for him. He has to own his past, be proud of it and use it. Why do you think he was born?

This side was down a few players. We were going to loose. Angel, they couldn't wait to groom a new warrior. So, they took the opportunity when you did the nasty with Darla and they created a super warrior. And they sent him to a hell dimension where time moved very differently. In a year, Angel, they had almost a fully grown warrior ready and willing to kill any demon he saw.

Do you understand now? The Powers used every opportunity they could to force Connor to be a warrior. They sparked the seed that created him; they used Wesley's paranoia to their advantage. There is always a Plan B and they used theirs expertly. They had to undo what you had done. You neutered their next great champion, Angel."

He sat speechless, staring into the big brown eyes of the woman who owned part of his heart. The woman who had gone to a higher dimension and came back changed, evil even. The woman who had died after giving him the greatest gift she could give. This was not the woman he had entertained ideas of loving. She was different, more accepting of the grey areas than she had ever been before. He was stunned into speechlessness, not by the facts he was hearing, but by the callous tone in which they had been spoken.

Swallowing hard, he set his coffee on the table. Putting his forearms on his knees and his head in his hands, he tried to reconcile the woman in front of him with the woman he had known. He was finding it impossible.

She was on her knees before him, her hands on his shoulders, before he could register that she had moved. "I'm sorry Angel. I'm just…I'm just tired. I can't tell you even a tenth of what I want to tell you. You just have to trust that it will work out. I swear to you it will. Connor will be okay and so will you. You'll move on. Angel, he was never meant to be like everyone else. He's special. Please, Angel, don't deny what you already know is true."

His head snapped up and his eyes burned into her. "I know that my son is devastated. I know that I have held him while he sobbed twice in as many days. I know that he has lost everyone he cares for. Is that the truth, Cordy? He should live like me? Miserable?"

She straightened. "You are not miserable. You are more blessed than you know. And Angel, they weren't real. Not to him. All the times you were denied when he was a child, you'll get to have now. Don't you see? You two are actually going to be able to have a relationship that doesn't involve trying to kill each other!"

"At what cost?" His voice was rising. "Four innocent people died! They were real people! I didn't create them, they had lives and friends and dreams. They were real!"

Standing, he pulled away from her to pace the length of the room. "So, what, we can bond over the fact that we're both chosen warriors to fight against evil? Great. What about a life, Cordy? Will he have to be as alone as I was for as long as I was? I don't want him to have to go through what I went through. I want better for him."

She stood slowly, wrapping her robe tightly around herself. "I was there too you know. Do you think it's easy for me? To remember the infant I bathed and changed and look at the man he is today? I loved him like he was my own. You know that. This isn't fun for me, Angel. I don't want to see him in anguish; I don't want to see you that way either! I love you both! If I tell you everything I want to tell you, Angel, I'll be killed. They shouldn't have even sent me back here! They should have sent me to another dimension where I couldn't get to you."

Taking a deep breath, he crossed his arms and stopped pacing. "Don't tell me anything Cordy. And especially don't tell me that you're okay with all this. Finally a little truth. It's nice to know you're still human under that hair. If you remember him, if you love him, why aren't you there for him? You know how much he loved you."

"Yeah, enough to sleep with me." Slapping her hand over her mouth her eyes widened as she watched the color drain from Angels' face. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm sorry. I…I can't talk to him. He remembers the evil woman who ordered him to kill someone. He remembers the woman that spawned a hell god with him. I can't talk to him."

Angel wanted to go to sleep for a few months. This night was turning into more than he could handle. "Cordy…please never bring that up again, alright? He loves you. You are the closest thing he has to a mom. And yes, you two…whatever. But, he didn't understand love or…that. He got them confused. He thought he was showing you love, okay? Forget about all that and just go see him."

"How can I talk to any of them? They don't know me anymore. They don't remember me the way they should…or the way I'd like them to. I just…I want a new life. I want to be away from all that."

He scoffed at her. "You talk about Connor owning his destiny? You're a seer, Cordy. You will always be a seer. There was a time when you would have died for that."

She stopped dead in her tracks. It was a moment before she could move or speak. Finally, her voice came in a whisper. "You can take the couch. Your clothes should be dry in the morning."

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to apologize and forget they fought. He wanted to watch old cheesy movies and listen to her giggle. He wanted a simpler time in his life again. His life now was anything but simple.

Lying on the couch, he pulled a coverlet over himself and stared at the ceiling. If he could fall asleep, he would only be able to sleep for a few hours. He opted instead for staring at the ceiling in the dark living room, alone in the quiet with his thoughts and regrets.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 44

Sneaking into his own house was not his idea of fun. Trying to tip-toe through the foyer, he was stopped short by the sound of steady breathing. Turning around slowly he fought a wince as he made eye contact with Buffy. She was not happy and he was more than willing to grovel. It had taken him a heart wrenching conversation with his former best friend, but he finally understood his place in life.

During the hours he had stared at Cordelia's ceiling, he had come to realize that his constant yearning for the past was not only nonproductive and harmful; it was putting his relationship with Buffy in danger. The woman he loved with very part of his soul was standing in front of him and he wanted to focus on her for the rest of his life. He was ready to end his dalliances with the past.

Before he could speak, Buffy cocked her head at him as her face changed; suddenly looking shocked. Before he could comprehend why, there was a lamp headed strait for his head. Reaching his arm up, he expertly caught the appliance. Opening his mouth to speak, he was caught with a left hook to his chin. She had rushed him before his arm had returned to his side.

Assuming a defensive position, Angel dodged to the right. Before she could connect again, he leapt over the couch and positioned himself with his back to the sliding patio door. She had gone insane, he told himself. His mind was drawing blanks as he tried to think of an explanation for her seemingly unexplainable behavior.

"Who is she?" Her voice came out hard and angry.

Angel looked at her as if she had suddenly grown another head. Recognizing his look of consternation, she expounded, "The woman who washed your clothes. I know you don't buy lavender scented detergent!" Her eyes were narrowed and shooting proverbial daggers in his direction. If she could have killed him with a look, Angel was sure she would have done it then.

"Buffy…it isn't what you think."

"I'm sure its not! You didn't come home last night and you shouldn't have come home today! Get out! Get out now!" She pointed towards the door, her eyes searching for something else to throw at him.

His brain went into overdrive. "I didn't sleep with anyone! Buffy, she's a friend. I just went there to talk, that's all! Buffy, I wouldn't…" He didn't get a chance to finish before she had lopped an end table at him. He ducked, turning just in time to see the small wooden table crash through the glass doors behind him.

Taking a deep breath, he realized that his best option was to retreat and come back later. Swallowing hard and fearing for his unborn child, he silently walked the perimeter of the door. Turning one last time to look at her, he watched silent tears roll down Buffy's cheeks. Wanting desperately to go to her and comfort her, he instead held himself still for a moment before leaving through the front door.

His breath came erratically, in great gasping heaves, as he sat behind the wheel of the car. Putting his head on the wheel, he tried to take deep breaths. The woman he wanted to marry thought he had cheated on her. His brain was having trouble comprehending that. He had stayed celibate for years with only will power and the memory of his one night with Buffy. Even occasional dalliances years ago hadn't dampened his inherent and desperate need for her.

Shaking hands turned the key in the ignition and a trembling man turned around and headed for the city once again. He hadn't slept at all the previous night and had left at dawn without saying goodbye to his hostess. After almost missing two red lights and swiping a parked car, Angel pulled the car over a block away from Will's apartment. His friend opened the door after a few hesitant knocks.

Will took one look at Angel and had him sitting on the couch, coffee in hand in what seemed to Angel like mere seconds. Knowing he would have to go to the office in a little over an hour, Angel sighed heavily and allowed his shoulders to slump.

Will sat across from his friend, staring intently at him. "What happened to you?"

"I went to see Cordy last night. Mainly to pick a fight. She put my clothes in the washer; I was covered in blood. I stayed on the couch and left around daybreak. Buffy thinks I'm cheating on her." Angel continued to sip his coffee after finishing his short recap of the nights' events.

"Well that sucks." Will sat back, trying to comprehend what he had just heard. It was laughable. Angel might have had an emotional affair with Cordelia, but the man would surely have ended it by now, Will thought.

"I just wanted to talk. I just…needed someone that remembered. And Cordy knew things. She had visions about Connor and didn't tell me; I needed to hear about that. I just needed to talk to her. I didn't mean to stay the night, really. Well, I kind of knew that would happen. But…I didn't think it would this big of a deal."

Will blew out a slow breath. "Angel, Buffy's pregnant and scared. Try to be a little sensitive."

Angels' shoulders slumped a little more. Nodding slowly, he finished his coffee and slipped his shoes off. Swinging his legs up onto the couch, he covered his eyes with his arm. "Wake me in an hour. Maybe I'll dream how to fix this." Recognizing that he wouldn't be able to keep from going insane if he was awake, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. His tired mind couldn't deal with anymore trauma.

Standing, Will went back into his bedroom. Closing the door, he started dressing for work. He hadn't slept all night; he had been too worried about Dawn to sleep. Looking at his cell phone sitting innocently on his nightstand, he wished so hard for Dawn to call that his chest hurt. She hadn't answered her phone, nor had she returned his calls. He was hoping that she would show up to work so he could apologize in person.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looked longingly out the window. He remembered Dawn here, naked and laughing in the early morning light. He had to smile at that memory; he loved her laugh. It was loud and sometimes she snorted, but it was hers and therefore beautiful.

Fishing a note pad from his nightstand, he shook both his hands for a second before trying to write. The first few lines were scratched in an unsteady scrawl, and many pages ended up strewn on the floor. Finally, after a half dozen attempts, he was able to commit his thoughts and feelings to paper. Hoping that she would read it before throwing it out, he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket.

He meandered quietly around the apartment, checked his email and responded to a few from the legal team. When his cell phone rang, he nearly tripped over his own feet to get to it. Not bothering to read the display, he opened it and exclaimed rather fervently that he was there and his name was Will.

"…Umm, okay, man. Hi to you too."

He sat down hard on the bed. "Hey Gunn. What can I do for you?"

"You need to come in. Now. And where's Angel? Connor's here and he is none too happy. Get your butts in here."

Cursing loudly, Will hung up the phone and shook Angel awake. "We have to go now."

Groaning, Angel moved his aching shoulder. They drove silently to the office, both men thinking of the women they loved. Riding the elevator, Will shuffled his feet and moved his hands in and out of his pockets. Angel stood stalk still, his chest barely rising and falling with his breath.

When the conference room door opened, both men winced internally. Connor was standing across the room, his arms crossed and a very unhappy look on his face. Fred was sitting next to a bassinet with Allison in it; Gunn, Wesley and Xander were sitting at the table with rather guilty looks on their faces.

Waiting for the two newly arrived men to take seats at the table, Wesley cleared his throat before speaking. "Connor heard the argument you had with Buffy, Angel. We…cleared up his misconceptions. Although I do not know what woman anyone is referring to, I do know where we all were last night. We told Connor what happened."

"Why wasn't I included?" Connors' words were laced with venom.

Angel took a slow breath before responding. "It didn't yield anything, Connor. It was pointless."

Angel's son took a menacing step forward. "That doesn't the matter! You said I could be included, Angel!"

"I did. And I'm sorry. I wanted to find a lead and get some information. The way it happened, though, we ended up diving in head first. Mistakenly. Trust me, Connor, if we would have brought anyone back here for questioning I would have called you."

"Trust you? How can I? You keep doing this stuff, Angel! You keep excluding me!"

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to get you answers faster. That's all."

"Did you? Do I have any answers?" He stood, his arms crossed, looking expectant.

Angel hesitated for only a moment. "No. I don't have any answers for you."

Connor exploded. Slamming his fist into the table, he said, "Liar! Where were you last night? Buffy thinks you were with another woman and you admitted you went to talk to someone! You know something!"

Keeping his features calm, Angel responded, "I don't have any answers for you Connor. I don't think I ever will."

A devastating silence fell over the room. It was broken only by Allie's cries after a few seconds of Fred discontinuing her rocking motion of the bassinet. Lifting the infant into her arms, Fred stood and started pacing the room, rocking her baby back and forth all the while.

The intercom buzzed, making a few of the rooms' occupants jump in their seats. Angel's secretary came through the speaker, "Mr. O'Connor, there's someone here to see you."

Angel gritted his teeth as he pressed the button on the intercom to speak, "Not now, Arlene, I'm a little busy."

A voice Angel recognized immediately came over the line. "You might want me in there."

Angel took one stilted breath. "Come in Cordy."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 45

Everyone in the room seemed to freeze in the exact position they had been in. Connors' jaw was glued to the ground as he stared at the woman who was now closing the door to the conference room. Her face remained passive but Angel could read her body language, she was nervous. Wearing skinny jeans, low black heals and a yellow sleeveless shirt, she walked towards the group.

Sitting down uneasily, she folded her hands in front of her on the table. "So I guess I'm the other woman." She managed a tiny smile. Cordelia had known the moment she had woken up to find her apartment void of other life that Angel had gone and gotten himself in trouble. There was no way, if she had been Buffy, that she would have thought Angel free of any guilt. Knowing Angel would have to be beaten and tortured to reveal that she was alive, Cordelia had decided to go to Wolfram and Hart and save Angel from his own stubborn pride.

Connor dropped heavily into a seat. He could not stop staring at the woman in front of him. Everyone in the room save for Angel and Will looked as if they were looking at a ghost. Will was hiding his surprise well; he was shocked the woman had shown up in front of all of them. She had seemed so vehement about keeping her new found life secret.

"So...I guess you guys want to know which way is up. I got into trouble and was sent back here. So here I am. I've been here a while; I wanted to get adjusted to living again before I told you all I was back. Angel came to see me to talk about Connor. He wanted to know if I had any visions or could give him any leads. I couldn't. And instead of letting him fall on his sword, here I am like a good friend."

Fred had stopped pacing and was now just staring. Allie was again sleeping in her mothers' arms. "You're alive." She said it as a statement instead of a question.

Nodding, Cordelia tried to smile again and failed. She didn't have the energy to pretend she was happy. She had hoped to live in anonymity for as long as possible and instead she had felt forced to reveal herself to people she thought she no longer knew. Feeling vulnerable, as if she was under a microscope, she fought not to squirm in her seat.

Gunn looked at her, alarmed and slightly afraid she was evil again. "You got really skinny." His mind was still processing that Cordelia was alive and well and sitting in front of him. He had thought never to see her again.

"I've been working out."

They sat for a while longer before Connor broke the silence. "Angel went to see you last night?"

Nodding slowly, she pursed her lips and cocked her head before answering. She wanted to phrase what she was about to say in a very delicate manner. "Angel came to me for answers. I didn't have any he was looking for."

Form the look on Connors' face, it was clear that he wasn't totally convinced. Cordelia decided that she wasn't going and try to make him believe her. Sighing, she dragged her hand over her hair and leaned back in her chair. "This is a mess. I know it. Can we move on from here?"

Shaking his head, Wesley rubbed his eyes as he spoke, "Cordy…you're alive; sent back from the higher planes of existence. You've been for here for however long without telling anyone but Angel. I…don't know what to make of any of this."

Gunn interjected before Cordelia had a chance to comment. "You said you got in trouble?"

She hesitated and licked her lips before she found the right words. "I was forbidden from seeing or influencing any of you, especially Angel. I was his seer for too long, they thought I wouldn't be able to objective. They were right, I wasn't. I sent Angel a vision. I wasn't expecting to get kicked out for it, but I was. They sent me right back here. I was…well, I needed time. And I couldn't stay on the streets, so I went to Angel."

Connor was still stunned but was rapidly rallying his senses again. "So…no one has any information about who killed my family? You don't know anything, Angel doesn't know anything and there were no real leads last night?"

Nodding, Angel spoke in a quiet voice, "We came up empty handed." He felt as though he had failed his son in many ways.

A devastated look passed over Connors' face before he quickly made it disappear. "I guess that's it, then."

"Connor…" Cordelia moved closer to the table, a pensive look on her face. "Connor, I don't think you will ever have any satisfactory answers. I'm so sorry for how everything turned out. It wasn't meant to happen this way." She let her words hang in the air, knowing full well that Angel grasped all the underlying meanings and praying that Connor wouldn't.

Standing, Connor started for the conference room door. Turning momentarily, he looked back to his father, "You should call Buffy." With that said, he disappeared through the doors.

Angel was the next to rise, "I have to get to work." Striding from the room with purpose, he was gone before anyone had a chance to stop him.

Cordelia leaned back in her chair. She hated the building she was in; she hated what it stood for. Even knowing everything Angel had done to destroy the evil within the company, the evil that had spawned the company, she was almost positive that he would never be able to fully reach his goals for Wolfram and Hart. She hadn't approved of his decision when he had first agreed to work for Wolfram and Hart and she still had many doubts about his running the empire. Absolute power corrects absolutely, she thought to herself. In the same thought, though, she was hoping that Angel would never have to fight that kind of personal corruption.

Looking towards the other people in the room, Cordy doubted her relationships with any of them would ever be the same as they once were. Cordelia doubted she could ever just sit and enjoy 'girl-talk' with Fred, or joke with Gunn. She felt to numb inside to do any of those things. In an instant, her mind reached a conclusion. Feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she smiled at the people in front of her.

"I have to go. You all have things to do and I have visions to see." Standing slowly, she walked to Fred and gave her a quick hug before kissing Allie on the top of her head. "I see you all another times," she lied. Cordelia turned to the door and was gone before her actions had fully registered with anyone still sitting at the table.

will had an idea where the brunette was going. He had always suspected that she had stayed in the city for Angel. Angel was a different man, Will knew, a man that had a child on the way and a woman he wanted to marry. Angel could no longer afford to rely on his seer to such a great extent as he had. It was time for both of them to cut their ties, not entirely, but somewhat. They had finally realized the only way to move on was to move apart. Everyone who had been with Angel during the days of Angel Investigations had grown with their leader; they had evolved throughout the years as a team, a collective unit. Cordelia had not been a part of that unit for a very long time; it had been over four years since her death. As much as Cordelia cared for Angel, and vice versa, Will was relieved they had come to the conclusion that it was time to part ways, at least for a little while.

Breathing out a low sigh, Will stood and stretched. It seemed the crisis of the morning had ended. Still hoping to apologize to Dawn, he left the room and walked in the direction of the stairwell that would lead to her office. He knew that he would have to talk to Angel eventually, to make sure everything was alright between he and Buffy, but for the moment his own relationship problems were going to take precedence.

The others in the conference room looked at one another. Fred was the first to break the tension that laced through the room. Her stress levels had been so high lately that she felt as though if she did not laugh she would surely implode. Sitting down with Allison still in her arms, she tried to get her laughter under control. It was ridiculous to think that her former best friend was back from the dead and had been in the office for a time without any kind of reconnection. Standing again, Fred asked Wesley to bring the bassinet to her office as husband and wife left. Wesley was shaking his head; he felt too accustomed to the idea of such intensity; he felt he should be more shocked.

It took only a moment for Gunn to leave to find Faith. He had been planning on asking her to lunch all day. Leaving only Xander in the large room, the one-eyed man leaned back. He had been purposefully silent throughout the entire saga. Having lost the woman he loved in Sunnydale five years ago, he found it difficult to be around his first love again. Cordelia reminded him of all the things he would rather forget, including Sunnydale and the life he had there once upon a time. His chest ached a little when he remembered what love felt like.

Pushing his thoughts from his mind and his chair from the table, he rose to leave. His mind waged an internal war as he walked the halls. Half of him wanted desperately to find and reminisce with his ex-girlfriend; the other half wanted nothing to do with anyone that reminded him so intimately of a past he thought was best left forgotten. Stalking the halls, Xander waited for his mind to make it itself up.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 46

There was a slight noise directly outside her doorway. Looking over her desk, she saw a piece of folded white paper that she almost instantly recognized. Furious, Dawn stood and grabbed at the paper, ready to tear it to tiny shreds. As her hands were about to move, a pressure somewhere within her conscious stayed her hand. Sighing, she sat down and stared at the note before opening it.

It was a few moments before she could get her breath. She closed the note with shaking hands only to open it a moment later and read it again. Only a few eloquently written lines made her feel as if she was about to come undone at the seams. He was declaring his love for her, she realized. Not yet ready to forgive him for sleeping with Faith, Dawn rose and started to Will's office. Gathering her strength on the walk up the few flights of stairs, she was ready to pick a fight she could win.

Without knocking, she opened the door to his office and strode in, throwing the note on his desk as she did so.

"Is this for real? Like, really real? Because I need to know if you're just trying to save your ass or not."

Setting his pen down, he looked at the woman standing before him. "It's for real, Dawn. Really real."

She sat down and crossed her knees, straightening her skirt as she did so. "You love me. I don't believe it. Will…I keep wanting to call you Spike. Do you know that? Every time I address you, I have to stop myself from using that name. I still see you as the bleach blonde bad-ass that took a beating to keep me safe from Glory. Will, I want you. I think you are incredibly hot; I have crushed on you since the first days I met you. But…love?"

Leaning forward, he put his hands flat on the desk to keep from hitting it. "If you don't love me, what rite do you have to have any opinion about who I sleep with?" His voice rose as he spoke, his mind could not comprehend the contradictions this woman seemed to be full of.

"I want to be with you! I don't want to look at you and imagine another woman all over you! But I don't want to fall in love, either."

"Why the bloody hell not? It's fun, it's crazy, it makes you hurt like no other. I love being in love!"

"Hah! You have the hurt part right! If I fall in love with you and you leave me, what then? What do I do with myself then?"

He sat back and tilted his head at her. She was afraid of love, which he thought odd at first. His mind worked quickly through the past few years, though, and realized where that particular pathology could have come from. He suddenly thought her avoidance of love wasn't all that strange.

"Dawn…look…I've been hurt too. I've had very, very bad relationships. I don't need to tell you that; you were there for some of them. I don't want that with you, I want something real for once. We're good together, you know that. And I don't want to be with you without moving on to something more. I don't want to have sex and go out to dinner and forget about each other the rest of time except when we want to have sex with other people. That's insane."

"It's not! I want an exclusive relationship that won't get to serious or demand too much. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation, "men have been asking that of women for a long time and it hasn't been accomplished yet. I can't love you and not say it. I can't love you and not expect the same in return."

She was annoyed with him. She hadn't chosen him to love; she hadn't decided to seduce him so he would fall in love her. She considered this turn of events to be very unfortunate. "Why are you so difficult? We were so good for a while. It was fun and there was no pressure. We were doing great!"

"And then you dumped me! And when I slept with someone else you exploded! Explain that."

"I…" She took a breath and paused. She had very little explanation for that, in fact. "I want you all to myself. I'm selfish. And I only dumped you because you want something I can't give."

"You can't have only part of me, Dawn. I'm not that guy anymore. I have actual feelings now."

Her voice became very soft. "You had feelings before. I remember how much you used to feel."

Ignoring that last sentiment, he decided to take a different tact. Standing, he walked around to the front of the desk and sat on the edge a few inches away from her. "Dawn, I love you. I have been falling in love with you since the first time we slept together. Sorry, love, but that's how it is. You're great, perfect actually. I can't let you go. If you won't be with me I will be forced to chain you in my basement."

"You don't have a basement."

"I'd have to build one." He crossed his arms and stared at her. She didn't understand his humor, which he had counted on for getting him out of such deep water. "Dawn, get it through your skull. I don't want a limbo, I want something real."

"Real hurts people. Look at Buffy and Angel! Look at you and Buffy! Love makes people nuts, it makes them hurt people."

"No. Angel's demon made him hurt Buffy and everyone she was close to. My demon made me hurt Buffy. Angel ran away from Sunnydale to keep from hurting her again. His love for her made him leave in order to keep her safe. My love for her made me travel half way across the world and get a soul. Love is not a bad thing, Dawn."

"I don't want anyone to love me like that. Love that intense is not for me."

"Love that isn't that intense isn't love at all. If a person isn't willing to die for their partner, then they aren't in love. I am willing to go around the Earth a thousand times for you. I'd die for you. Dawn, you have turned into such an amazing woman. Who could give you up for any reason?"

Standing, she made a loud grunting noise that Will assumed meant she was angry. "Will! Listen to me! You're not listening to me! I don't love you!"

"Of course you do."

"You idiot!" Turning towards him with her hands on her hips, she looked at him with a look very clearly meant to convey that he was stupid and she was annoyed with by that. "How else can I say this to you? Do you want it in Latin, Sanscrit? Should I write it down?"

"You love me. You've loved me since you were fourteen. You love me." He looked so sure of this that she started to believe it for a moment. Only a moment, though.

"I can't handle you. We play on my terms or we don't play at all." Turning, she started for the door.

He grabbed her arms and spun her around to face him before she could reach the door handle. "You'll destroy me. I can't live without you. You're the voice in my head every morning and every night. In less than a year, I have completely fallen in love with you. I have chosen to love you entirely and for no other purpose than it makes me happy. I want to make you happy too. Give me that chance."

Frozen in terror, frozen from her own fear of letting go and letting someone in, she shook her head infinitesimally. She couldn't let herself be so controlled by another person, be so influenced by another human being. If she couldn't use her body to her benefit, get want she wanted and have a clear opening to the first escape route, she didn't want anything to do with the relationship.

Pulling from his grasp with the last bit of strength she had left, she shook her head again and turned from him, fleeing the office as fast as she could. Her breath caught and she felt as though she was going to suffocate if she spent another second in Will's presence. Once in her own office, she closed the door and leaned against it, trying to catch her breath.

Sitting down again in his chair, Will reached for the note and the lighter he kept in the top desk drawer. His days of smoking on the roof with Angel were long over, but he had kept the memento. Lighting the folded piece of paper on fire, he watched it burn until it reached his finger tips; only then did he drop into the trash can. Sighing, he watched the other papers catch fire.

A twisted smile came to his lips as he watched the waste paper basket turn into a burn barrel. He let the papers blaze for a minute or so before deciding to suffocate the flames. Setting his brief case over the top to stop the oxygen flow, he waited a while before lifting the case. Smoke billowed from the basket and into the room. The charred side of his briefcase smelled like something akin to burning flesh.

Looking up, he watched the smoke detector start to blink red. Within seconds, the sprinkler system in his ceiling had activated, soaking the entire room. Within seconds, he was drenched with cold water. Staying in his chair, his eyes bore into the waste basket as he watched the remaining ashes of his letter disintegrate under the spray of the water.

It was another second before someone had rushed into his office. One harsh word was enough to send whoever it was running. Whoever it had been, Will surmised, had called the security system, because a few moments later the water was off and his phone was ringing. Assuring security he was fine in a few coarse words, he hung up the phone and stared out over the city.

The wet shirt sticking to his body and the smell of burnt leather and paper reminded him he was alive and made him wish he wasn't all at the same time.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 47

Hanging up the phone, Angel sighed heavily before putting his head in his hands. Will was going to burn down the building as a declaration of his undying love. Angel thought it ironic that only he and Dawn would know the reason behind the martyrdom. He had tried to reason with his former ex-vampire compatriot, but the effort had been wasted. Will was in no mood to hear reason from anyone.

He had been moved to a temporary office and Angel had sent down clothes for him to change into. The last he had heard, though, Will had refused to move from his water logged hidey hole. Angel had ordered crews in to clean up even if it meant they had to tranquilize the vice president.

Lifting his head, Angel looked at the phone once more. He had called Buffy over ten times and she hadn't answered the phone once. He was cursing his caller I.D. He briefly considered leaving for home but thought better of it. Buffy would probably throw a table at his head again. Deciding he was better off allowing her time to cool down, he tried to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. It was impossible to do.

Standing, he left his office to start stalking the halls. His wondering feet and unfocused mind led him to Gunn's office. Knocking on the door, Angel heard shuffling and whispers before Gunn finally gave permission to enter a few seconds later. As Angel opened the door, he saw Faith sitting in front of Gunn's desk; he could smell pheromones in the air.

"Hey. Is this a bad time?"

"No, we were just talking about the school and all that good stuff. Have a seat, man." Gunn motioned to the chair beside Faiths' as he sat on the edge on the desk.

"How are the plans for remodeling going? I haven't had a chance to look at the files today."

Faith smiled and tried to focus on Angel. Her lunch with Gunn had gone so well, she had decided to have coffee with him afterwards. Coffee had turned into flirting and flirting would have turned into a dinner invitation if Angel hadn't have interrupted.

Shifting in her chair to face Angel more, she said, "They're coming along. The guys just finished knocking out a bunch of walls. I think we'll be on schedule."

"That's good. How's your stay going?"

"It's been good. A little weird at times, but good. I picked up a real estate magazine or booklet or whatever it is, I'm going to start looking for places soon. I can't live out of a hotel forever, I guess. I'm…figuring things out."

Nodding, Angel was getting the distinct impression he should leave. "Well, I guess I should get back to work. I'll send some documents to you that need your signature a little later, Faith." Standing, he exited as they were saying the perfunctory goodbyes.

Shaking his head as he continued down the hallway, he hoped for both their sakes that they kept their relationship quiet. Angel was sure Gunn wasn't aware of Faith's very recent and short lived affair with Will and knew the proud lawyer wouldn't be happy about being the second of the Wolfram and Hart employees to have romantic involvement with Faith.

He crept down the hallways so silently that anyone who thought he was human would have to rethink that assessment. It had been a long time, he reflected, since he had toured his company and watched the inner workings. Turning down random hallways, he watched as people scurried about with file folders and stacks of papers. He watched employees in the archives sitting patiently perusing old cases. He had forgotten how many people worked in his company, how many people were needed to keep it going. In a way, he was comforted by the fact that he wasn't the only one there; he wasn't the only one working for himself.

On his way back to his own office, he stopped on the floor that now held Will's temporary office. Opening the door a little, he saw the man sitting at his desk in borrowed clothes absently staring at a case in front of him. Entering the room entirely, Angel sat in the straight backed chair in front of the desk. He looked around the room, not entirely sure of the decorating skills of the person who had previously inhabited it. Angel regretted sometimes that he hadn't filled every position that had previously existed after he had taken over. Many of the offices that were once inhabited by low level executives stood empty, which meant that many of Angel's people had taken on extra responsibilities.

"You look bad."

"I feel like death." There was a long pause as they both sat in the office, staring at the walls in front of them. "I wish sometimes, that I had never gotten the soul. I would have been…well I would have been trying to kill you all these years. But I wouldn't hurt so badly. I wouldn't want what I want so badly."

Nodding, Angel sighed. "It doesn't hurt when you have no conscious. But it doesn't feel as good either. The lows are ten times lower but the highs…"

"Aren't as high. I remember what it used to feel like…to hunt and kill and torture. After days of stalking a prey, to finally take them. I remember that feeling. The freedom of it. I feel…chained, Angel. I feel like I killed the demon, but I still have a part of me that wants to feel that freedom again."

Angel was surprised. He hadn't thought Will remembered his days of being a vampire in such a pragmatic manner. As Angel considered what Will had said, though, he had to agree that the freedom of doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted was something he could miss if he allowed himself to do so. Having a conscious meant being compelled to do certain things that he found painful. Selflessness was hard, Angel reflected, selfishness was much easier. A lack of responsibilities, a lack of general caring about anything was invigorating, it was freeing.

Angel sighed once again before he spoke, "It's like being tied to a huge boulder that you can't move. You can see other people and they don't have boulders, or they have really small boulders they can carry around, but you're trapped just where you are. I feel like…like I'm drowning in commitments. I could miss it if I thought about it. I could miss the freedom. But I wouldn't trade this for that, you know? I could never trade."

"Me neither. But…this is so hard. Feeling like this is so hard."

"She'll come around," Angel said quietly, "give her time."

"I feel like I'm running out of that. I'm going to die, Angel. I'm going to get gray and wrinkly and disgusting, and I'm going to die. I want to live before that happens."

"We've got about fifty years left, I guess. If we aren't killed by demons or hostile takeovers, that is."

"Fifty years…that isn't a long time. We've been alive for over two hundred. I mean…I can't imagine it ending."

"I can't imagine it not ending. Aren't you tired? I'm tired. I think I'm going to like dying. I mean, not coming back, not watching everyone else around me die. I think I'm going to like just being a person for once. What's more human than death? It's like the ultimate initiation into the race."

"I don't like the way you think."

"Me neither most of the time."

They sat for a time in silence until Angel rose and nodded a goodbye to Will. Leaving the office, he walked slowly back to his own. Once there, he packed his briefcase silently and left once again after writing a note to his secretary to send certain papers to Faith. It was time he confronted Buffy. He could no longer to afford to waste time waiting for his problems to fix themselves.

The drive was silent; he was too busy planning speeches in his head to listen to the radio. Once he was parked in the drive, he sat for a few minutes trying to get his courage up. As he was about to get out of the car, though, he saw Connor coming out of the house. Bracing himself for a knock-out, drag-down fight, he waited for his son to get in the car.

Connor sat in the passenger seat, his hands on his knees. When he spoke, it was with a controlled and even voice. "You're a jerk. I don't like you. You think you know best for everyone and you don't. You don't even know what's best for you. But…you're my father. My biological one, anyway, and I have a half sibling on the way. I have a…step-mom, I guess, that I like. Sometimes, I like hanging out with you. You've been more helpful than you had to be throughout all this. So…I just wanted to tell you that.

I talked to Buffy, she's not as crazy now. I told her some stuff. Angel, I'm loosing my memories and I don't think there's anything I can do about it. Soon, all I'll know is you. So, I don't want to screw it up. I don't want to be mad at you over stuff that I suppose doesn't really matter all that much. You were a big jerk to go off like that and not take me. But, I get why you did it. You were wrong but you had decent motivation. So, anyway, I'm not mad and I want to try and be normal with you. You know, like not killing each other normal. So, I guess I'll talk to you later."

Without another word, Connor got out of the car, leaving Angel slack jawed and staring at the passenger seat. Too overwhelmed to really process all of what Connor had said, he slowly exited the car and started into his house, hoping perhaps that whatever epiphany Connor had experienced was contagious and Buffy had become affected as well. If not, though, he would settle just for a lack of flying tables.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 48

She hadn't laughed so hard in months; Gunn was a very funny man, Faith mused. Dinner had been going exceptionally well, and for once in her life Faith felt like a lady instead of a warrior. She was dressed in black slacks and a black button-down shirt. Even her shoes were feminine, which she also liked to call stupid. Fred had loaned her the top and the pants had come from some place downtown Angel had recommended. All in all, Faith felt her night was going very successful.

Years of loneliness of frustration had softened the chosen woman. Her predilection for violence had lessened somewhat and her desire to be stationary had started to enhance. Moving around the globe had made her weary. Every city and every new face had blended together into years of anonymity; she found it tiring. Throughout her childhood, she had tried to blend into the background at home to escape the wrath of her volatile mother but in public had fought to be recognized as strong and daring. In her adolescents, after she had been called, she had perfected the methods of standing out. Now, she thought, perhaps she would be able to find an in between she could fit happily into.

Her love of black eye liner had diminished as her love of the outdoors had grown. It wasn't until she had been hiking Mont Blanc during her trek of Europe that she had realized what city life had robbed her of. Soot and smog covered starry skies had become her usual surroundings; throughout her three years of freedom, she had discovered there was another way. During the time she had been in China directly after her breakup with Robin, she had decided to travel to Tibet. It was then that she understood the peace Giles had rambled on about so often.

The stories of Tibetan monks had always seemed to her to be ridiculous. She had doubts that anyone could walk hot coals with a straight face or heal twice as fast as normal people. It was there, though, that she learned of biofeedback and meditation. Meditation was still something she struggled with; action was much easier than rest for the slayer, but biofeedback she had taken to as a duck to water.

Learning patience, training to strike after planning and expressing her anger in constrictive ways had taken time. She had been frustrated often at how slow of a pupil she had seemed. Now, though, she was proud of herself for the first time in her life. She felt more like a person and less like a machine. Her sense of humor and impulsiveness hadn't ebbed in the least, but she felt more on an evil keel since her time in Europe.

They were half way through their entrées when Faith realized that although she had changed throughout the years her taste buds were still the same. Whatever they were eating was not the normal fare she would have chosen, especially for a first date. Even time over seas, eating many things she could not comprehend or identify, hadn't changed her love for good old fashioned greasy cheeseburgers and french-fries.

"What are we eating?"

"Pâté de Lapin. It's rabbit pâté."

Setting her fork down with practiced control, she looked at him with a crooked grin. "I'm eating little peter cotton tail? Really? I mean, not that he isn't tasty, but…is this how you impress all your dates?"

"No…well, I mean this place is petty popular. You have to know somebody or kill somebody to get a table. I thought, well, yeah, I guess I thought you'd be impressed."

"Have you ever met me? Gunn, let's get out of here. Come on." Standing with a wicked grin, she waited for him to stand as well.

A waiter rushed to them and Faith waited with incredible patience as Gunn explained the food was fine and they were not offended by anything but that he had received an urgent phone call and they had been forced to leave. Faith listened with one ear as he placated the waiter before they left. She had been to busy planning their night to pay much attention to the conversation.

Once in the parking lot, Gunn put his hands in his pockets and started for his car. "What now?"

"I'm hungry. And if we can swing by my place so I can change, we can go to a real restaurant. One that serves things I can identify."

He would have been offended if not for her smile. She was disarming when she wanted to be, he realized. It was perhaps what made her so deadly. She escorted him to her hotel room when they arrived there and she changed quickly into jeans and a black tube top. He was still wearing his suit, but discarded the tie and jacket in the car.

Shaking out her hair, she stretched her arms above her head and turned the radio to a rock station. She watched him as he watched her. She could tell he was intrigued.

"You've never met a woman like me, have you?"

"I knew someone similar once. But she was kind of evil."

She prickled a little at that but tried very hard to keep him from seeing her reaction. "What happened?"

"Isn't it bad form to talk about exes on a first date?"

"Lunch was our first date, this is our second. Spill about the me-clone."

He laughed. "Okay. Her name was Gwen; she was a professional thief. Beautiful, intelligent, a bad-ass. My kind of woman, you know? Well, it didn't work out due to the whole professional thief thing. I wanted a woman I could be with. She wanted a man to help her out for a little while. It just didn't work."

"I get that. So, I'm your kind of woman, huh?"

"Definitely." He gave her a rather stunning smile, which was quickly returned by the woman in the passenger seat.

The steakhouse Faith had wanted to visit was one she had read about in some trashy magazine that had been at the airport. Waiting for a cross over flight to L.A. had almost driven her mad; her sanity had survived on Britney Spears news and gossip rags alone. One article had outlined every great to place to eat in a few great cities of the world. Los Angeles had been one.

Her mouth was watering as they were seated. The wait would have been long if Gunn had not had lunch there with a very high power judge earlier in the week. Some of the people he worked with in the city were very big fans of red meat and their illustrious status meant that people thought he was important too. It made it easy to get great tables and short notice reservations. Their orders were taken quickly and Faith was finally able to get the beer she had been too self-conscious to order at the French restaurant.

"This is my kind of place."

"I'll have to remember that. Tell me something else about you. I know about the last few years overseas and that you had a record we had expunged. Tell me something else."

She pushed her finger through the condensation rings that formed on the table under her glass. "Well, my favorite color is blue even though I always wear black. I like dogs; I was never much of a cat person. I'm an Aries, and I like staking vampires and eating chocolate cake." Tipping her glass in his direction she took a drink and smiled.

"That's it, huh? I don't buy it. You're more than all that."

"Not really. No great enigma here."

"Bull. What do you do for fun?"

"Work out, kill evil things."

He laughed slightly, but he was starting to become concerned. "For fun, Faith. Not what you have to do."

"That is my idea of fun. Why, what do you do?" She was starting to feel her nerves rise within her. This man was serious about breaking down her layers, she thought, and that scared her very much. Letting people in wasn't something she considered herself good at.

"I like movies, I play basketball, I swim. I like the ocean."

"Me too." She tried to portray confidence to the man across from her but something was picking at her brain. Not knowing quite what was throwing her off her game; she cleared her throat and straightened in her seat. She was going to show this man what a real woman was, she vowed.

"Tell me about things that make you happy."

Her vow quickly dissipated. "Happy? Let's see…sex makes me happy. At least for a little while. Hiking in the mountains, white water rafting, sky diving made me happy when I tried that. I don't know, a lot of things, I guess."

She was lying through her teeth and he knew it. He doubted that this was a woman who was happy often or for very long. "You are one strange enigma, Faith. I mean, you're obviously the kind of girl that gets what she wants. But you want a lot of things. Things that you aren't sure you want to get."

"Thanks Freud. Let's turn this table on you. Tell me something about you."

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. "My name is Charles Gunn. I started fighting the good fight back before I was old enough to have a driver's permit. I ran with a street crew for a long time before I met up with Angel. I had a sister, but she was turned into a vampire. Angel gave me a job and a new purpose. I got my law degree in about an hour; the info was just kind of booted into my brain. I like my job but I kind of wish I had more free time.

I hate boats but I love the ocean. I used to only play ball before I started watching hockey with Angel. I like that too now. My favorite color is green and I'm a Scorpio. I like dogs, cats freak me out. My favorite city is Las Vegas; I go there whenever I can. I listen to rap, hip-hop and jazz, though the jazz thing is relatively new. I'm a great dancer and sex makes me happy."

She had to laugh. "Okay, okay. At least we're compatible. I swung by Vegas once, I liked it there a lot. We both like dogs and sex and the ocean. What a coincidence."

"That describes about a million other people in this state." He was staring at her expectantly.

"True. Alright…I grew up in Boston. My dad wasn't around after I was born and my mom was a drunk. She still is. I got slapped around a lot and when I got this whole slayer power thing I went a little nuts. I got into trouble, started working for an evil demon guy and then was in a coma for a long time.

Angel saved my life a few times and I owe the big lug. Buffy gets under my skin, but I think I love the little princess. I've traveled since Sunnydale fell into the center of the Earth, and I went to pretty remote places after I broke up with Robin. How about that?"

"Better. I want to know what I'm dealing with right up front. I like you, Faith, especially your brutal honesty." He was smiling as he sipped his drink. This was the kind of woman he could dedicate hours to investigating. He wanted to know just what made her tick.

"You don't know me well enough to know that I'm brutally honest."

"I can tell already," he said as their meals were delivered.

She bit into the first piece of a delectable steak that had been delivered. They ate for a few minutes in silence until Faith looked up and saw Gunn grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What?"

"I'm not normally this strong when I come on to women. I like to take my time. You know, get a synopsis up front and then take a while to think it over. With my last girlfriend, I dated her for a long time before she even saw my apartment. I was pretty closed off with her. That didn't work, as you probably figured out since I'm no longer with her. Let me know if I'm coming on too strong, though, 'cause that might not work out either."

Leaning back, she sipped her beer as she swallowed a piece of steak. "You aren't too strong. Most men pussyfoot around it. They think I'll keep coming back to see if they're interested. The thing is, I don't give a damn if you're interested or not." Her confidence was bolstered, "I'm interested in you and that's all that matters."

"Is that a fact?"

"It is." She smiled ear to ear. She felt like a woman, a powerful woman. She felt a kind of power very different from the kind that allowed her to kill demons and drive wood into vampires. This power was the kind of power that came with confidence and a sense of knowing who she was. She liked this power and was hoping intensely she could hang on to it for a little while longer; it was addictive.

Dinner progressed rather smoothly to desert which progressed quickly to patrol in a cemetery. Faith thought that was the most perfect way to end a date. Her wavering emotions, which turned from self-consciousness to confidence, had started to wane. Confidence was now her overwhelming feeling. Keeping her self control about her and remembering her mistake with Will, she smiled a seductive smile but did nothing else when he dropped her off late in the night. She was going to wait with this one, experience had taught her that was best.


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story. Special thanks to all those who take the time to review. I live off of those reviews! I have tried to correct all the spelling and grammar errors for the second part of this story, please let me know if I make mistakes, though, I will gladly fix those that I miss. Thank you so much for the positive feedback and constructive criticism, I greatly appreciate it.

Chapter 49

A puffy eyed and pouting Buffy was curled in the corner of the couch. Fighting to keep from wincing, Angel approached cautiously. Her arms were crossed and the look on her face was very expertly convincing Angel that he should proceed with care.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He sat on the chair catty-corned to where she was sitting. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I know that I was wrong. I'm sorry Buffy."

"Why didn't you tell me Cordelia was alive? I went through your credit card receipts this afternoon and I swear, Angel, if Connor hadn't told me what was going on I was going to get on a plane and go to Willow's. I thought you were dating another woman! You paid for her apartment and her clothes and all this stuff. You took her to dinner on the nights that you were supposed to be working late. What am I supposed to think?"

"I wound never cheat on you, Buffy! Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea what I would do for you? I promised her not to tell anyone, I thought you would know me well enough to know that I would never hurt you like that!"

"Don't turn this around on me! You were a huge ass for not telling me something was up. I thought you were being all secretive because of something bad. You have been known to do that on occasion, you know. Angel, you have to tell me things! You have to come to when you are hurt or need to talk to somebody. I can't be the person you go to when things are great, that won't work."

"I get that. I screwed up, okay? I get that. Buffy, I love you. I want to be with you forever. I know that I've been a lousy partner lately but I want to change all that. I talked with Cordy and she isn't the person I thought she was and I've been living in the past. I want to live here, with you, right now. No more thinking how great things were and how much I miss them. Things are great now and I know that. I want to be a better man, Buffy! You make me want to be a better man!"

She sniffed and wiped her nose with a balled up tissue she was pretty sure had been in her hand for almost half an hour. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, she threw the offending article to the coffee table. "Connor fixed the table. And a glass guy is coming tomorrow to fix the door."

"That's great. Buffy, I don't give a damn about the door! Do you still love me?"

She looked at him in shock. "Of course I still love you, you idiot! I will always love you. I have loved you since I was sixteen! I will never stop loving you. But sometimes, Angel, I just really want to hit you so hard you won't wake up for a while."

"Okay…I can understand that. If I were you I would want to hit me too. Buffy, I've had an epiphany. Really, I have. Will you…will you give me another chance?"

"Well now that I know you aren't cheating on me, of course I will. I'm just really upset Angel. You should have told me what was going on. I want this relationship to be open and honest and I want us to tell each other things. I don't want to be your wife when you feel like it. I want to be your wife all the time."

"I want that too." Rising, he made his way to the couch and sat gingerly next to Buffy. "I want you, Buffy. I want to watch our baby grow; I want to have a family with you."

"You have a lot of groveling to do, you know. You can start with making me a peanut butter and banana sandwich. Then you have to rub my back."

Smiling, he kissed her hands as he stood. "I can do that. I promise you, Buffy, no more secrets. I'll tell you anything you want."

A strange look crossed her face before she smiled. Following him into the kitchen, she sat at the table and put her feet on another chair. Drying her eyes and wiping her nose with a tissue she found in her pocket, she prepared what she considered his first act of penance. She wanted to make him work for her forgiveness a little, even if she had already internally forgiven him.

"Anything? Okay…Will told me that you two used to, what did he call it? Oh yeah, you two used to 'jam' together. What about that?"

He nearly dropped the knife he was using to spread peanut butter. "I'll kill him. When did he tell you that?"

"Does that matter? I talk to people, you know. Spill."

"He asked me to teach him to play the piano. He taught me some guitar chords."

Her jaw was slack. "You play the piano? Why did I not know this?"

"It never came up?"

Sitting next to her, he pushed the plate in front of her with a hopeful look on his face.

"Uh huh. Seriously, what haven't you told me? I mean, we left a lot unsaid in Sunnydale. We never actually got to move to the whole, get-to-know-each-other-in-depth thing. And we still haven't done it. Why is that?"

He thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think we just became complacent. I think we thought we knew each other. I mean, we love each other. I would do anything for you, Buffy. But love doesn't mean that we know each other as well as we should. I forgot that." Staring hard into the wood grain, he finally looked up after a few seconds of listening to her chew. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

"What don't I know? What don't I know about you?" She spoke in between mouthfuls of peanut butter and bananas.

"Umm…that's a tough one. Well, I can play the piano. I was alive, well not alive exactly, but I was on this planet for a long time. And for a long time I had a soul and no purpose. I went almost one hundred years just hanging out; I didn't fight the good fight. I had a lot of free time on my hands. A hundred years is a long time to learn new things."

Swallowing quickly, she pointed to her mouth and made a drinking motion with her hand. Angel was up and pouring her milk before she had finished the movement. Drinking the milk, she swallowed again and tried to get the peanut butter off the roof of her mouth before speaking again.

"Okay. You learned things. Like what?"

"I got into music for a while. I still am into music; I just don't have any time to enjoy it anymore. I found out I like to read, I like to draw. I always liked to draw; I was just too busy killing and maiming and do it before I had my soul."

"You never draw anymore."

"I do. I just do it in private. It's cathartic. It's like therapy, and I think that should be private. I draw sometimes for other people; I used to do it when I had Angel Investigations. I would draw what Cordy described in her visions. Now, though, I just do it to relax. I draw what I see or what I'd like to see."

"Show me something."

He paused and considered his response carefully. "Well…I have something for you but I'm waiting until the baby's born to give it to you. It's kind of a vision of the future kind of thing. Not a real vision, just an image. I wanted it to be a surprise. I have others, though. I have a sketchbook I keep in the office."

"Will you show me sometime? I want to know you, Angel. I want to know what you like and what you do."

"Okay. I can show you them tomorrow. After breakfast."

Intrigued, she finished the last bite of her sandwich and rubbed her burning eyes. Crying all day had taken its toll on her. Leaning back in the chair and trying to look impassive, she relaxed her shoulders before speaking. "Keep going. I want to here more."

He laughed nervously and stood to fidget with things in the kitchen. After a few moments, he started making coffee in a very slow and methodical way. It soothed him. "I like cars. I'd love to restore some old seventies hot rods. I don't have time for that, though. I like hockey. I'm a great skater." He paused when he was done preparing the coffee and just watched it start to drip into the carafe. "We never got to go skating," he said in a low and regretful voice. There was a lot he regretted when it came to Buffy.

She looked at the table and felt more tears coming. She had thought she had cried all her tears away earlier in the day, but her body had found a reserve. "Yeah…we never got to do things like that. We never got to be a normal couple."

"We were never a normal couple. Maybe, though, maybe we could do things like that, after the baby's born. We could go on vacations, too. We could be a real family. We'll go skating; we'll go to the beach, the movies, the Alps. We'll do all the things that we could never do before."

"That would be nice." He voice was soft and had a whisper like quality to it as she spoke. "We missed out on a lot, didn't we?"

He finally turned to her and leaned against the counter. "We experienced a lot, too, though, Buffy. We went through things that made us into the people we are today. I'm not sure I would have changed things. Well, I would have changed the whole turning evil and killing people thing, but not mush else.

I think I had to leave Sunnydale. I had to figure out who I was. For all the years I have been on this Earth, Buffy, I have never before now understood who I was and what I wanted. Our time apart made me grow into a new person. And Buffy, if we hadn't have separated, you would have gone through life so differently. Who's to say it would have been better?"

"I can't think about that. It would have been better because we would have been together. I don't want to focus on that, though. I want to focus on now. Let's do something. Let's do something that couples do."

Looking towards the ceiling, Angel cocked his head to the side. "Can we do something families do? I think Connor needs that. I know he needs us right now. Let's do something as a family."

"Is that what we are? I mean, Angel, Connor is a wonderful young man. But, can we ever be a family? Can he ever look at me that way?"

Walking to his lover, Angel sat next to her and put his hands on hers. "He already loves you. There is no question about that. The question is whether you and I can not screw this up. Mainly, if I can avoid screwing it up. I think we can be a family. If you're willing."

"Of course I am. I want that. I want him to be a part of this. I want us to all be good together."

"Good." He kissed her before she could say anything else. Holding her closely, he kissed her passionately, deeply. He wanted to take her upstairs and make love to her, but he sensed she wouldn't be up to the exertion after her emotionally trying day.

Standing, he took Buffy's hand and led her to couch. She wasn't in much condition to go out, and he was in no mood to do so. Calling up the stairs, he waited for a perturbed Connor to come to the top of the landing.

"Come downstairs. Let's do something normal and boring."

Walking down the stairs with a look that was obviously meant to convey he thought Angel was insane, Connor conceded to the request. Looking at a tired and blotchy faced Buffy, he smiled. They were making up, he realized. More than anything, at that moment Connor wanted his father and step-mom to be happy. Sitting in an overstuffed chair, he swung his legs over the armrest and looked expectantly at Angel.

Hading the remote to Buffy, Angel went into the kitchen to retrieve coffee and make popcorn. He could hear Buffy and Connor arguing already over what pay-per-view movie to rent. Smiling to himself, Angel felt as if years of chains were starting to be removed from his ankles. There was a possibility that he was going to have a real, and almost normal, family. Normal, he thought, was optional.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 50

One bottle of wine and three newly written songs after he had arrived home, Will stood unsteadily to answer his apartment door. Still wearing the black pants and apple red button down he had been in at the office, his jaw dropped as he saw what was before him. Dawn was standing in a little black dress that should have been illegal by his estimations. She was holding a cherry wood Ovation Custom Legend Contour LX guitar in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

Without a word, she stepped into the apartment and handed him the acoustic guitar. Setting the bottle on the coffee table, she turned to him and crossed her arms across her chest, which only served to make her already ample cleavage even more tantalizing.

It had taken her hours to get up the courage to go to his apartment. It had taken longer for her to choose what she wanted to wear and even longer for her to convince herself to get of her car once she was parked outside his building. The sun had set and the stars were almost visible tonight, and she had planned to apologize with all her might. Taking her heart in her hands, she made a mental gesture of it towards him. She was going to let this ride, she told herself. Her curiosity was piqued and she wanted to see what end this story would have.

"I talked to Fred after I had a mini mental breakdown. She said I was an idiot. Umm…I wouldn't usually listen to her, I don't even know her, but she was the only woman I could talk to since my sister no longer answers her phone. And, well, I made a mistake. I mean, I still think I could never love you, don't get me wrong. I don't think I'm capable of that. But throwing you away because you love me is stupid, or so I'm told. So here I am. I won't run away, I swear. Let's work this out."

After her breathless explanation of her presence she stood staring at him pensively hoping with all her being that he wouldn't throw her out. He had every right to, she thought. He stood staring dumbly at her for a few moments. Trying not to take offense to anything she had just said, he took a deep breath and tried to make his eyes look away from her body.

"Sit down." His clouded mind wouldn't let him do much more than sit and carefully take the red bow off his new bright red cherry wood guitar. Sitting the guitar on his leg, he carefully tuned the strings to his satisfaction before strumming one of the songs he had written in a fit of broken heartedness and booze induced honesty.

Leaning back, he closed his eyes and started to hum as he strummed. Soon, he was singing with all his soul, his melodic voice piercing the air with tenderness and at times intensity so real it made Dawn ache. Dawn listened, her lips parted and heart heavy as she tried to tell herself the lyrics weren't about her. He was a talented writer and his words that were directly about Dawn made the young woman quiver in fear and overwhelming emotion.

When he was done, Dawn released a breath she hadn't known she had been holding. Lowering her gaze to the floor, she tried to think of something to say to him. No one had ever written her a love song before, and she was sure that if anyone had tried she would have laughed at them. His words were true, beautiful and not overwrought with dramatization, which made her love them even more than the fact that Will was the one who had written them.

Setting the guitar down, he knelt on the floor in front of her, putting his hands on her thighs. "Let's go to Vegas. Tonight. It's Friday, there's no need to get up tomorrow. Let's just go. Right now."

"Will..." She was silenced by his lips. Rising from her chair, she nodded and went for the door. Allowing herself to trust him was difficult, but if he wanted to drive across a couple of states tonight, she wasn't going to argue with him. She felt that he deserved that much from her.

Forgetting everything he had planned, everything he had wanted to say to her, he grabbed his jacket and threw her the keys to his car. She caught the keys and turned to him, "It's three hundred miles to Las Vegas."

"I know. We'll be there before one. Let's go."

Throwing caution to the wind, she smiled and left the building with him. She drove the first two hours while he slept away some of the wine that was clouding his brain. The drive was quiet, each afraid they would say something that would jinx the night. Will was hoping with all his might that the woman next to him would listen to reason and allow herself to be free with him. Dawn was hoping Will would give her space and time and refrain from making demands of her.

They switched places half way through the drive. Will knew just where he wanted to go. They drove down the strip, which Dawn had never seen before, before Will pulled into his favorite hotel.

"This is where I stay when I'm in town."

"How often do you come here?"

"Whenever I need to relax. Angel and I used to come here all the time on the weekends, to gamble, watch pretty women and get drunk. It's a good time. I haven't been here in a long time, though. Since you came to L.A., actually. I think it's about time."

The suite Will checked them into had one king size bed and a circular tub big enough for five people. Smiling, she walked the perimeter of the bedroom before turning to him. His hands stopped her from removing the thin material that kept her dress on her shoulders. Frowning at him, she wondered what this night was all about.

"Not now. Come on."

Hiding her disappointment and stinging pride, she followed him from the room and out onto the street. Taking her hand, he started them away from the Bellagio and towards the Stratosphere.

"Where are we going?"

"We're working up an appetite on our way to the Stratosphere. You haven't dined in Las Vegas until you've dined there. Do you mind walking? Those shoes look a little uncomfortable." His brain was moving to fast for his lips and he recognized that he hadn't breathed while speaking.

"How far is it?"

He thought a minute before answering, "four miles, I think."

She stopped where she was and looked at him with incredulous expression. "Four blocks I could handle, four miles is a little ridiculous in these heels. We're getting a cab."

"Okay."

The drive was only about fifteen minutes, traffic wasn't horrible tonight. It was nearly one-thirty by the time they arrived at the restaurant, but Will knew it was open until three. They were seated rather quickly; the normal patrons had mostly already left. Somehow Will was able to get them in without a reservation, which was supposed to be impossible; Dawn imagined the few hundred dollars he had slipped to the maitre d' had something to do with it.

Dawn listened to Will order for her. She was to awe struck by the view to pay any attention to the menu. The eight hundred foot high restaurant afforded a view of the entire city. She could see every hotel and casino for miles. Prying her eyes from the magnificent view, she looked at her companion. He was sipping from a wine glass and she noticed hers had been filled as well. The bottle was sitting on the table.

"So, what is this all about?" She leaned forward, allowing the flowing and plunging neckline of her dress to gape a little wider.

He recognized what she was doing and he wasn't going to fall for it again. "We're having dinner. We're going to drink this wine and eat amazing food and then we are going to gamble until daybreak. And then we are going to sleep all day and get up and go to shows and eat more incredible food and gamble again. How does that sound for a weekend away?"

Leaning back, she crossed her knees. She did look down-right amazing, Will reflected. Her dress was cut in flowing fabric that reached almost to her navel. The flowing black material hung just above her knees and fluttered around her legs as she walked. Her hair was styled in big curls and waves that hung around her shoulders; her lips were pale and her eyes were lined darkly. Jewelry adorning her body was scant; she recognized that she didn't need it. A teardrop shaped black stone hung from a gold chain and lay just at her breastbone. Matching earrings and bracelet were the only other things she had added to the ensemble. He was captivated entirely by the woman in front of him. He was stunned at how mature, how womanly she looked. Gone were the days were sweaters and clunky boots, he thought.

She sipped her wine and smiled at him. This was a beautiful night, she thought. She was in good company, she was in an amazing city, and she felt as if she could take over the world at any moment. Looking out at the view once more, she watched as the city slowly spun beneath her. Laughing at the idea of a revolving restaurant, she started to feel the wine going straight to her head.

"I think this is a great weekend. I'm still wondering what possessed you to do this, though. I mean, sudden doesn't even cover it."

"I got tired of our regular dates. A rushed dinner and great sex can only take a couple so far, you know. If I have the means to do things like this, why not do it. Besides, you brought me an amazing gift; I figured I do something for you."

"The guitar? Yeah, I figured you'd like that."

The waiter brought their food and Dawn started into her lobster. Will had something in front of him he identified to her as lamb. They ate and drank for a few moments, trying not to stare at each other. The food was some of the best Dawn had ever tasted, and the wine was like silk on her tongue. If nothing else went right tonight, she thought, she would always remember dinner at the top of the world.

Gathering his courage, he leaned forward in his seat. "Dawn, what happened today? The way you ran out of my office, I didn't think you were ever coming back. The way you reacted was pretty severe. And then you show up looking like that and acting like this a few hours later. What happened?"

"I told you, I talked to Fred."

"Uh huh. And then the Martians body snatched you. What happened?"

She took another swallow of wine before she answered. She didn't like the direction this conversation was headed but decided to answer honestly anyway. "I ran because I got scared. I've seen what love does to people. And it's you. The guy who we all hated. And then the guy we all loved. It's weird to be with you, Will. I remember you chained in a bathtub and making puppy eyes at my sister. You did a lot more than that with my sister," she said in a caustic tone. "You aren't the guy I thought I would love. I didn't think I would ever love anybody. I thought we were going to sleep together and that would be it. You are so attractive and I have wanted you for so long, it was like the culmination of years of desire."

She took another drink and tried to aggregate her reserves of courage. "I just got really freaked out. So I went to talk to someone. I didn't use your name or anything, but I found Fred and talked to her. She told me about her and Gunn and then her and Wesley, about how she wasn't even sure she loved Wesley for a long time. And now, they're married and have a kid and she says she loves him more than anything besides Allie. She told me I was ridiculous if I threw away the best thing that could ever happen to me."

I went and I thought about that for a while and tried to call Buffy but apparently there's another Buffy and Angel saga going on. Anyway, I took my time and thought about she said. And I figured, if I like you and since you treat me really well and you're nice and funny and we have the best sex I have ever had, I would be pretty stupid to run from that. I'm not saying I'm going to confess my undying love or anything, I just don't want to destroy the best relationship I've ever had."

She looked back down to her plate and started eating as he digested the information he had just heard. He liked to think that she was going to love him eventually. He wanted to believe that she would learn to love and specifically that she would learn to love him. Chewing slowly, he wondered what he could possibly do to convince her that love was not a bad thing. Swallowing his food and leaning back in his chair, he realized that all he would have to do was show her how wonderful it could be. He thought he could do that.

"Well I'll have to send Fred some anonymous flowers."

Dinner progressed wonderfully, both of them talking about future plans and past events. They laughed as they reminisced about Sunnydale and demons that made them sing. Will told Dawn a few stories about England as he knew it; she listened with rapt attention to his description of London hundreds of years ago and told him about the way it was when she had been there.

When the maitre d' told them the restaurant was closing, Will didn't bother to ask for the check. He left more one-hundred bills on the table than Dawn had seen at one time. Having matured throughout her teens in a house that struggled after her mother had died; Dawn was still uncomfortable with the thought of frivolous spending. Even the clothes she was wearing had made her nervous when she bought them. Only the knowledge that the dress would make a very deep impression had allowed her to purchase it.

They left Stratosphere slightly intoxicated and feeling lighter than either had in a long time. The night progressed to more alcohol and a volley of gambling. The casino closed a short time after they had entered and Dawn practically begged to continue the night. A night club was the next stop, then, Will decided. They danced and drank and laughed until they thought they would burst from the incredible hedonism.

The last stop the taxi made with its rather intoxicated inhabitants was a small twenty-four hour wedding chapel. Two drunken and very happy people were back in the cab only twenty minutes after having left it. Going back to their hotel, they stumbled to their room with little idea of what they had done and no memory of certain parts of the night.

Too inebriated to sleep, they made love slowly and with a lot of giggling. Will wasn't sure they had finished by the time he was about ready to pass out. Holding her tightly against him, his muddled brain stopped working as he fell asleep. They slept in each others arms, neither willing to move throughout the morning and most of the afternoon. When Will woke, he felt happier than he had in a long time. Besides the headache ravaging his skull, he felt as though he was a new man, a happier man, than he had been the day before.

Working his way out from under Dawn's unconscious grasp, he stretched silently and rose to go to the bathroom to dig for Tylenol. Passing the nightstand, he stopped as his jaw dropped to the floor. Slipping the bit of paper stating just what had been the finale of their night into the drawer, he swallowed hard and continued to the bathroom. A long shower and a lot of pain killers were going to be needed before Dawn woke up.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 51

"What exactly did you say to Buffy to stop that fight from being a real fight? There was a lot less screaming last night than I anticipated."

Staring at his son over coffee and pancakes, Angel was hoping to get an answer to his questions before Buffy woke up. She had been exhausted last night and had gone to bed directly after the final credits of the movie had started to play. Connor had followed shortly thereafter, giving Angel little time to press for information.

His night had consisted of sketching and precious little sleep. He had already consumed half the pot of coffee and hoped that his day would not be too strenuous. Boring holes into his sons' skull, he pursed his lips and waited for Connor to speak.

"Well, I told her what I knew. About Cordy being alive and coming to you for help. I told her some stuff about when I came back and what you and I went through. You didn't tell her anything, did you?"

"I told her some stuff. It's hard to talk about a lot that happened back then."

"Back then. Is that when it was? I just think she needs to know some stuff in order to understand you. To understand us."

"So what exactly did you tell her?"

Connor shifted uncomfortably. "I told her I was raised in a hell dimension and when I came back I tried to kill you. I told her about your ocean submerged summer and how I went nuts and tried to kill a bunch pf people and you sent me to a new family. And I told her how much you missed her and the stories I heard from Cordy about her." He laughed a little before speaking again. "Cordy used to say that you'd travel through the center of the Earth to get to Buffy."

Shifting uneasily in his seat, Angel stared into his tepid coffee. "How did she respond to all that?"

"Well, she didn't kill you when you came home. She walked around for a while mumbling about stakes. I took that as my cue to talk to her. She was pretty upset that you hadn't told her about our history. She knew some stuff, but she had no idea how screwed up it really was."

"No, I didn't think she did. I thought it would be best not to tell her. I can barely deal with our past history."

"She's pretty strong. She's a cool chick."

Smirking, Angel rose to refill his mug and take his plate to the sink. "'A cool chick,' huh? I guess that's a pretty apt description."

"Yeah. We talked about a bunch of stuff once she wasn't homicidal."

"Like what?"

"None of your business." His tone wasn't offensive; there was an edge of playfulness in it Angel hadn't heard in a long time. None the less, Angel wanted an answer.

Looking perturbed, Angel sat back down with hot coffee. Narrowing his eyes at his son, he breathed in a deep breath. "Really? Connor, what did you guys talk about?"

"How ridiculous you are. What she wants to name the baby, if I'm ever going to move out or get another job. Stuff like that."

Sipping his coffee, Angel leaned back and let his facial features relax. "We talked a little about baby names. She seemed to want to wait until the baby was born to figure it out."

"She mentioned that you liked the name Brady. I like that name too; it's very Irish."

"I'm very Irish. So, what about the moving out and getting a job thing? I don't want you to go," he said quickly, "I just wonder what you guys discussed."

Smiling, Connor nodded slowly. "I like it here. Faith offered me a job yesterday. She called just after I got back from the office. I agreed to be her Director of Students. I get to work with all the slayers, make sure they have adequate housing, that they're happy with their schedules and all that. They get to come to me before they go her, you know, with problems and concerns and all that. It should be pretty cool."

Shocked, Angel stared at his son. It took him a moment before he was able to respond. "Are you qualified for that? I mean, are you comfortable with those responsibilities?"

"I have a college degree. I'm good with people and who better to work with slayers than someone who understands what it's like to be different. I know I'm pretty young to have that position, but this school is pretty haphazardly thrown together. I think you guys are lucky to get me." The last was spoken with the same playfulness that Angel had so missed hearing.

A rather patronizing smile came to Connor's face and Angel knew he was being provoked. Knowing these, he still took the bait. "We are not haphazard. We are planning this school very carefully and I think we've done a good job considering the time constraints we've had. Eight weeks to build a prep school and dormitories isn't a long time. Not to mention finding teachers."

"Yeah, you've done a pretty good job, I guess. Like I said, you're lucky to get me. Students go to me and I go to Faith and she goes to Willow and Giles and you. Well, I get to go straight to you if I have a concern about a student that needs your expertise."

"Expertise?"

"Money. I meant money. If a student had financial difficulties or something, Faith said to bypass her and go to you."

"That's really great. Very strategic of you two."

"Yeah I know. You won't say 'no' to me."

"I will to."

Their argument was cut off at the knees as Buffy came in and slowly sat down. She looked unhappy. Glaring in Angel's direction, he recognized her 'I'm hungry' look and rose to make more pancakes. Connor laughed at the entire proceeding.

Connor started with a cheery, "Morning."

Buffy grunted some kind of noncommittal answer in his direction and rubbed her belly. After a few moments of silence, she looked at Angel with an impatient look on her face.

"When is this baby going to come out?"

"A couple of weeks. Why, are you ready to be done with pregnancy?" Setting a short stack in front of her, he watched her reach across her belly to cut her pancakes.

"I am tired of not being able to see my feet. I want this baby out of me. Can we move this delivery date up?"

"I don't think that's really up to us, Buffy."

Connor rose to serve himself more food. "I think it's cool that I'm going to get a sibling." Sitting down, Connor tried to remember what it was like to have younger siblings. His memories were fading a little every day and he was having a hard time remembering what his life had been like. In the past two months, he lost most everything of his other family. He only remembered feelings.

He could remember being happy and content and feeling safe. Sometimes he wondered if those memories of feelings were what kept him sane. He didn't have to only remember fear and pain and hurt. He could concentrate on what happiness and security felt like.

"Well I want your little brother or sister to come out now. I can barely walk, Angel!"

Not knowing how to respond, Angel stayed silent. She needed to vent her frustrations, he thought. Rising, he kissed her head and went to the sink to rinse the dishes before putting them into the dishwasher. Smiling to himself, he thought about all the things he wanted to do with his second son. He was going to teach him to drive, and tie his shoes and play hockey; most likely not in that order. Starting to loose himself in his own dream world, he barely listened to Buffy and Connor speaking behind him.

"What will you name it if it's a girl?"

"Don't call my baby it, please. I was thinking Reagan if we have a girl. That's a good Irish name; I figured Angel would like it. And it's unique, which I like. What do you think?"

"It's pretty. You said you liked the name Brady for a boy?"

"I do. And I know Angel likes that name."

"He's all about the Irish names. Actually…" A strange look came across his face as recognition dawned on him. "Angel named me Connor O'Connor, didn't he? Hey!" Turning around, he looked at his father with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. "What's with that?"

Dragged from his reverie, Angel turned to his family with a quizzical expression. "What? What did you say, Connor?"

"I said, you named me Connor O'Connor, you jerk!"

"Umm….I did. There's a reason behind that if you'd like to know."

Shaking his head and putting his hands in motion that signified 'well, duh' Connor looked at Angel expectantly. They could hear Buffy giggling in the background.

"I named you after Conn O'Connor, a legend in Irish history. Conn of the thousand battles. I figured you wouldn't like the name Conn, so I called you Connor. And I never meant to take my old name again. If it ever came down to it, I was going to choose a new surname."

"Why didn't you?'

Shrugging his shoulders, Angel closed the dishwasher door. "Will says I did it to torture myself. I think I was just too lazy to choose anything else."

Connor's interest was piqued. "Why he say it would torture you?"

Angel hesitated a moment before answering. "I didn't have a great life the first time around. I never wanted to take my fathers' name; I thought it would bring back bad memories. Will thinks I kept the name as a way to remind myself of an unpleasant past."

"Is that true?" Leaning back in his chair, Connor was suddenly consumed with curiosity. He had never gotten the chance, or taken the chance when he did have it, to really get to know the man that helped create him. For a long time, Connor had assumed what he knew about Angel was the be all and end all of the man. Connor hadn't realized that Angel had a life before he was a vampire, and had a life after he had a soul that Connor knew nothing about.

"It was pretty crappy." Swallowing, he saw Connor about to ask another question and quickly interjected. "Buffy wanted to see sketches."

Allowing the disappointment to show on his face, Connor turned to Buffy to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were wide and she was obviously interested in whatever Angel was talking about.

"I did! Ooh, ooh, show me!"

Nodding, Angel led the way to his office. Taking silent deep breaths, he was hoping that he had cleared out any embarrassing sketches the night before. Everything he had done that he wished for no one to see was conveniently locked in a drawer in his desk. Thinking back to the previous night, he hoped he had put everything of a compromising nature in that drawer.

Trying to calm his nerves as best he could, he pulled out a large accordion style file organizer and handed it directly to Buffy. He had toyed with paints for a time, but he was going to save those portraits for another time. The image he had been working on for a few months was still safe in its hiding place; he didn't want Buffy to see that yet. Sitting on the edge of his desk, he watched Connor and Buffy sit down next each other. Connor opened the organizer and pulled out a think stack of sturdy sketching paper.

The first image they saw made them drop their jaws and their eyes widen. The top image was the oldest; he had them categorized in chronological order. The entire collection he had created in Sunnydale and L.A. was in that organizer. All the artwork from older times that he had been able to save, which was a small percentage of the ones he had actually created, were in other folders. He was waiting to judge their reactions to these to decide if he wanted to show them others.

As they went through the images one by one, Buffy's breath caught. There was an image of her, Giles, Willow, Oz, Cordelia, Xander and Angel standing on the steps of the high school library. She was sure he had never seen such an image, but he had been able to create the image almost perfectly; they all looked the exact way she remembered that. She could even remember the skirt she was wearing in the picture. The black and white charcoal sketch in front of her made her eyes water as she remembered those times.

They overwhelming majority of the images were of Buffy, which made her blush. After a time, she realized that she and Connor had progressed through all the images he had created in Sunnydale. The next sets were of Cordelia, Fred, Wesley, Gunn, Lorne and Connor. She laughed at a picture that looked very much like a candid photograph. Cordelia was yelling at Wesley and Gunn and Fred were in the background frowning and looking rather confused. Lorne was sitting on the desk with his chin on his hand looking impatient. The image conveyed to Buffy much more than Angels' words about those times ever could. There was humor and love and everything a family was made up of in that picture.

For the next hour, Buffy and Connor perused many of the sketches Angel had created throughout the last decade. Connor became almost visually upset when he saw the images his father had created of him. Connor was an infant, in the arms of the people who had at that time been his family. He became very quiet as they looked at the portraits of baby Connor. The one that struck the young man most was of a laughing Cordelia holding him slightly away from her and up in the air. The image reminded Buffy of pictures she saw in magazines of mothers and bouncing infants.

Finally tearing themselves from the images in front of them, they looked up at Angel, who had been working on a new sketch while they had been looking at his previous ones. Wiping his blackened hands on the towel he kept in his top desk drawer, he managed a small smile in their direction. Leaning back, he cocked his head in their direction as he waited for one of them to say something.

"Oh my God," were the only words Buffy could manage. The only portrait she had seen of Angels' was the one he had done of Jenny just before he had killed her. Since that time, she had been almost afraid to ask him to see his artwork. Now, though, she couldn't wait to see more.

"I didn't know you did that." Connor was staring down at the portrait of Cordy holding him like a proud mother.

Seeing the look on Connor's face, Angel rose and went to his bookshelf. Removing one tome, he opened it and removed a photograph from a cut out section of the books insides. Handing the picture to Connor, he sat on the edge of the desk and watched his sons' expression.

"I have a whole album of things like that. I keep that one there because it was where I kept it after I had your memories erased. The albums were erased to; I had them in a storage container. That one I negotiated to keep. The albums reappeared when your memories did. I dug them out of storage a few weeks ago. It's a good thing I never got rid of the unit."

Buffy looked at him quizzically. "I didn't know you kept a storage unit."

"I have nooks all over town with things hidden in them."

"That's odd."

"I needed to keep things like that private. You can keep that, Connor. I think I have a frame for it somewhere."

He swallowed hard before answering in a very low voice. "Thank you." The photograph showed Angel smiling, holding an infant in his arms as he sat on a red circular couch in the lobby of the Hyperion Hotel. Cordelia was leaning over him, smiling down at the infant. Gunn, Fred, Wesley and Lorne were smiling at the camera.

"Lorne set the camera to take it. I didn't know it was about to go off. You made this sound; it was the cutest thing I had ever heard." A sad smile crossed Angels' face as he remembered being a dad for a few precious months.

Buffy averted her eyes as father and son shared a silent moment. She felt almost voyeuristic watching Angel in this manner. Seeing images of Angel as a father made her heart ache for joy and longing all at the same time. Her earnest desire to have memories and photographs of Angel and their baby seemed to burn a whole into her heart. She wanted what she could she Angel had once had, and she wanted to be able to share that joy and keep it for all her life.

Taking a deep breath, Angel tried to shake the melancholy that had come over him. "All right. Time for a field trip." Standing, he took Buffy's hand and motioned for Connor to follow him. It was time his son saw where he had come from.


	18. Chapter 18

Reviews are my life blood. Thank you so much to those who have been commenting, some of them are very funny and very uplifting. I greatly appreciate it.

Chapter 52

He could hear Dawn moving around in the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, he quickly went through the litany of reasons and explanations for last night that he could use to reason with her. Opening the door, he greeted a bedraggled looking Dawn; her hair was hanging at odd angles and her mascara and eyeliner were smudged around her face. He couldn't help but smile.

"You look like you had a good time."

"Oh, the best." Sarcasm was dripping from her words as she wrapped the hotel's terry cloth robe around herself and started for the bathroom. "I love waking up and feeling like I got hit by a truck."

"I think we had a good time."

He watched her disappear into the bathroom and thanked the heavens that she hadn't found the marriage license yet. She needed to shower and relax a little before those flood gates broke, he thought. Dressing quickly, he looked at the black dress on the floor. There was no way she would want to wear than again tonight, he realized.

Calling the concierge while Dawn was in the shower, Will explained the problem and gave the man Dawns' dress and shoe sizes. He had to look at the bottom of one of her stilettos to figure out the last one. After being assured something would be done to take care of his dilemma, Will asked that a few things be found for him as well. He ordered room service as he heard the shower being turned off.

Smiling at a wet and beautiful Dawn, he sat on the bed and watched her towel dry her hair as she sat at the desk. "I ordered room service," he said.

"Good. I'm hungry." After drying her hair to her satisfaction, she turned in her seat and looked at him quizzically. "What did we do last night? I'm fuzzy after the time we went to the nightclub."

"Me too. Actually, I get fuzzy somewhere around when we were leaving the nightclub. You don't remember anything after that, do you?" Fighting an urge to cross his fingers, he hoped she would remember something; he didn't want to explain anything if he didn't have to.

"Umm…I kind of remember a cab ride and a lot of making out. And there was…were there flowers? I think I remember flowers on the walls. Like, hanging from the walls. Was that some kind of dream?" Standing, she stretched before coming to the bed and sitting next to him.

"I don't think that was a dream. Dawn…I don't know how to tell you this. Umm…I think…I think we got married last night."

A blank stare was on her face. After a few seconds, a short and harsh laughter escaped her lips. "No we didn't. I think I would remember that." He interpreted the look on her face as meaning he was an idiot.

Silently, he opened the drawer to the nightstand and handed her the paper he had secreted there earlier. "I found that when I woke up."

She stared at it long time. Feeling as though her breath was coming too fast, she put her head on her knees. Trying to get her lungs to slow their pace, she took a few deep breaths. Rising to her full height and straightening her back, she tried to put the strongest look she could on her face.

"We'll have to get it erased, or annulled or something."

"Annulment is a religious thing, I think."

"Whatever! We have to fix this! We can't be married!"

Leaning back on the bed, he tried to take the sadness out of his expression. "Why not?"

Her jaw dropped to the floor as she stared at him in disbelief. "Why not? Are you serious? What do you mean, why not? We can't be married, Will! We're barely a couple. We broke up yesterday! We got back together, but still, we broke up. And we aren't compatible and no one will understand and why are you being difficult?"

"Divorce is a public concern. If we get divorced, people will find out we were married, or are together, or whatever. Dawn, this is a no win situation. I mean, I'm…I'm not that upset."

Grabbing a pillow, she threw it at him as hard as she could. Throwing her hands into the air, she screamed, "You aren't upset? We got married last night!"

Her ranting was interrupted by a knock at the door. Frowning, Will rose to accept the lunch he had ordered and a note stating that their new clothes would be sent to their room soon. Thanking the deliver, he closed the door and released a slow breath. Before Dawn could explode again, he lifted the silver lids from the dishes and handed her a plate. The look on her face could have melted less confident men.

Sitting on the couch that was before the television, she ate in silence, trying to think of what they were going to do. Will was obviously not very upset with the idea that he was married to her. She, on the other hand, was scared out of her wits. She was in no way ready to be married, she thought. Stabbing at her crab salad, she tried to lay out an argument in her head that would make sense to him.

"We can't be married. We don't live together and we have no rings. We can't tell anybody because Buffy would kill you. Therefore, we have to figure out a way to make this go away. Maybe…maybe we could wait until everyone is really preoccupied and then get a quiet divorce. Maybe, like, fake an apocalypse so no one notices us. We could do that, right?"

He let the disbelief register on his face. Sure he hadn't heard her correctly; he shook his head and finished his sandwich. "Dawn. Listen to me. We are married. We don't have to live together and we don't have to tell anyone. This doesn't have to change our relationship."

"It changes everything! We can never go back to the way we were! Don't you understand, this means that we are together forever. There is no going back if we stay married. I can't just leave you; this is very complicated."

"So don't leave me. Dawn, I was planning on marrying you anyway." He let that information set in while he poured himself another glass of water. Taking his seat on the armchair perpendicular to the couch, he leaned back and watched the emotions play on her face.

She was quickly progressing from shock to anger to dismay. "You were? You wanted to marry me? And when was I going to learn about this?"

"Don't look so sad. I didn't say anything that should make you feel that way. You are the only woman I can imagine spending the rest of my life with. You know…I was talking to Angel about this the other day. We were talking about how we won't live forever anymore. He said he wasn't scared of death; that he was looking forward to an end to his saga. I feel just the opposite. I'm terrified of getting old, Dawn. I'm terrified of dying. I feel like my life is wasting away.

I get up in the morning, I go to work. I come home, I play the guitar, I see you, and I go to bed. I do it all over again every day. There's nothing extraordinary, nothing to make my life complete. If I go through this same routine every day for the rest of my life, I'll go insane. I want something more. I want a wife and a family and someone to leave something to. I'm tired of being alone, Dawn. So, I think I should be with you. I love you; I know you love me even though you don't know it yet. Maybe this was the kick start we needed."

Covering her eyes with her hands, she tried to gain control over her emotions before she spoke. Not sure if she should be angry or flattered, she took deep breaths before saying anything.

"Okay…let's say I agree with you about the being alone part. I don't like that either. So, neither of us wants to be alone. You love me. I'm not sure I can reciprocate. Besides, that, though, Will, I don't think I want a family. I don't think I ever want to bring children into this world."

He looked for a moment as if he had been hit with a sledge hammer. Recovering rather quickly, he leaned forward and stared into her eyes with intensity. "You are too scared to love because you have seen how much hurt your mom and sister went through. I am not your dad, Dawn. I will not leave you. I am not Angel; I can't lose my soul and go ape shit. Get it? You are stuck with me."

Swallowing hard, she fought the urge to throw her plate at him. He looked so confident, she thought, it drove her out of her mind. Wondering what the best tact would be, she thought for a long time before saying anything. Finally, when she had reached a conclusion, she lifted her head and leaned back on the couch, blowing out a long breath. "Will…oh, I give up. Okay, we're not getting a divorce. Where do we go from here?"

He smiled a little, but he felt he had won a hollow victory. He didn't want her to be with him by default. He wanted her to want it. "You said yesterday that if you left me, you'd be an idiot. You said yourself that I'm good for you. Why don't you want me, Dawn?"

Shock crossed her face briefly before she got control of her features again. "I do want you. I want you a lot. I just…don't know if I'll want you in a year or in ten years or in twenty. What if I don't?"

"Are you going to let that fear stop you from ever having a real relationship? Why give in to that fear, Dawn?"

Putting her head back, she stared long and hard at the ceiling. "Maybe I do love you," she whispered. "Isn't that odd? You were such a bastard. It wasn't your fault, really. You didn't have a soul. But then you got a soul and you went nuts. You hurt Buffy in so many ways. I should hate you just for that. But you are such a good guy now. I mean, you're caring and nice and funny and you are so good to me. Is that love? Is that enough?"

"Love is a choice, Dawn. We chose to love people. That choice has to be accompanied by emotion. I didn't choose to love Buffy; I let my cock and my emotions lead me to do what I did to her. She was part of that equation, though, you know. I know, Dawn, that I love you. Really and truly. I couldn't love before I had a soul; I had nothing to love with. Now, I am making a choice with my mind and heart and soul and body all in accordance. Every part of me is aching for you. I know it's weird. You don't think I remember Sunnydale and ask myself what the hell I'm doing with you? You were a whiny little brat. You were annoying and socially awkward. But I love you. I love you because I remember the girl you used to be and I see the woman you are now. I can't get rid of you Dawn. You're in the fiber of my being."

Silent tears fell down her cheeks as she tried not to make eye contact with him. Wiping her cheeks and licking her dry lips, she focused on a fiber on the carpet. She felt hands on her shoulders and his presence in front of her before her mind had registered that he had moved.

"Let me in. Just let me in, Dawn."

Putting her head on his shoulder, she sniffed and nodded. "I can try. You're too stubborn to let me get away with this, aren't you? Why couldn't you just let me alone? Why do you have to be…this way?"

Smiling slowly, he grabbed her and drew her close. "You are a stupid little trollop. Do you know that? You show up in my apartment naked and conniving and think I won't come to love you? You think that being amazing and beautiful and intelligent and kindhearted are turn offs? Dawn, I had to love you. I couldn't ever love anyone else after you."

"What are we going to do?"

"Whatever you're comfortable with."

Pulling away from him slightly, she wiped her eyes again. "I want to spend more time with you. I don't think we should live together, yet, but maybe I could move stuff in? You know, like have a drawer or something?"

"You can have the whole damn dresser. And the closet if you want it."

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door. Looking alarmed, she was about to question him but stopped as he rose. Realizing he had been expecting someone, she pulled the robe closer around her and made sure her eyes were dry. When she looked to the doorway, her mouth parted in shock and awe. Two bellmen were wheeling metal carts that had hanging from them about a dozen outfits all wrapped in the same plastic her drycleaner used.

"I thought you would want new clothes. That dress isn't very appropriate for daylight." Looking out the window, he frowned, "though that is burning quickly."

When she didn't move, he gently took her elbow and steered her off the couch and to the two racks of clothes. One rack had men's clothing hanging from it. Indicating the female clothes, he smiled at her and nodded.

"Well, go on then. Do you want all of it or does something offend you? Just tell these guys and they'll take it away." Grabbing an outfit from his selection, he indicated with a hand motion that the rest could go back to wherever it came from. "I'm going to go get dressed. Thanks gents."

She stared for a few seconds, her brain trying to register that he had thought of her enough to do this. It was only a few seconds before her shopping addiction took full force and she was looking at the ten outfits, she counted, that were before her. Thanking the men that had brought the clothes, she kept half of them. All of them were beautiful but she felt greedy accepting the lot of them. The shoes on the bottom of the cart had been unloaded onto the floor as she had perused the clothing.

When he came out of the bathroom, she was rearranging items on the bed. "Do you like it? We can get dressed and go shopping if you don't. I might want to slit my wrists, but I'd risk it for you."

"These are excellent. How did you do this?"

"I tipped the concierge very well. And he knows me from when I used to stay here a couple times a month. I asked him to bring you some things you could wear tonight; I think he called a boutique his girlfriend works at. Are they alright?"

Smiling, she chose a white dress with a bright blue belt and matching blue shoes. Slipping the robe over her shoulders, she pulled the dress over her naked form. The flowing material hugged her body and the belt accentuated her already thin waste. He watched as the outlines of her breasts became visible through the thin fabric. She looked sexy but not overdone. Shaking out her now dry hair, she went through her purse until she found a hair tie and pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail. It took about five minutes for her to apply powder to he face and lipstick and gloss to her lips.

He laughed at how absurdly quickly she had gotten ready. He stopped when he realized something was missing from the outfit. "You aren't wearing underwear." His face fell as hers suddenly took on an impish look.

"I guess I could." Smiling at his reaction, she slipped her underwear on and was out the door before he could get his shoes on.

Laughing to himself, he wondered what he had just gotten himself into. She was moody, impish and unpredictable. Sighing, he hoped he could keep up with his new wife. She was certainly going to keep him on his toes, he thought.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 53

The dust immediately filled their nostrils. Covering her nose with her sleeve, she looked to Angel with a questioning glance. He was too busy staring at unseen memories and dancing ghosts to pay any attention to what Buffy and Connor were saying or doing behind him. The sun was shining in through the patio door, illuminating dust molecules as they floated throughout the room. Taking a deep breath, Angel tried not to sneeze as he led his son and girlfriend into the Hyperion Hotel.

White drape cloths covered the counters and furniture; Angel could remember the last time he had come here and draped everything. He had been alone in the early morning hours five years ago. Covering everything in site other than the floors had given him a sense of covering his past. It had been, not cathartic, but a catalyst for the development of new goals. Putting Angel Investigations behind him once and for all, he thought, would help him to focus on the future.

The alley where the final battle had taken place was behind one wall and a world away. If he tried to remember that night, which he wouldn't, he would remember the smell of burning flesh and blood and rotten walking corpses. He could remember the sounds of his friends screaming their last breaths if he tried, but he would not try to remember anything that painful, anything that he had tried to erase away through traveling in different dimensions, moving time and reality.

"Do you remember this, Connor?"

The young man was watching his own ghosts play in front of him. He could see the area where he leapt through a dimensional portal with intents to kill his father. He could see Lorne and Gunn and Fred walking around, looking at him. Memories of feeling like an outsider, like he didn't belong, started to claw at the inside of his skull. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Angel and tried to shake the feelings he was being bombarded with.

"I remember a lot of things about this place."

Touching the drape clothes delicately, Buffy turned to father and son. "This is the hotel that Angel Investigations was headquartered in? Willow told me about coming here a few times."

Nodding, Angel pointed to the office with closed blinds, "that was the main office. We did a lot of work here. Good work."

Swallowing hard, Connor looked at Angel and tried not to feel as if he was about to collapse within himself. He hadn't thought coming here would be this emotional. "What did we come here for? You were all cryptic and stuff in the car."

Allowing himself a small smile, he motioned for them to follow him up the stairs. Looking over his shoulder at Buffy, he made sure she was taking the steps slowly before continuing up the staircase. Once to the second floor, he led them down the hall to his old room. Pulling the key from his pocket, which he grabbed from his desk before leaving the house, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

The room was dark and there was a fine layer of dust covering every surface. Looking to the bed, he grabbed the comforter, pulling it away and revealing a dust free sheet. Buffy sat down almost immediately, her hands on her stomach. Giving Angel a reassuring look, she nodded her head as a sign that he should continue.

"I keep a majority of things in storage units, leased different names. I'm a little paranoid about people finding things they aren't supposed to find. Anyway, I went to the storage unit a few weeks ago and found all the albums I had. Cordy was a nut about these things. She used to sit for hours with you next to her and paste pictures into the albums. There're two, I think. We took a lot of pictures of you."

He had been going through boxes at the bottom of the closet as he spoke. Finding a brown cardboard box, he smiled apprehensively and opened the top. Lifting two photo albums out of the box, he handed them to Connor. Placing the comforter upside down on the arm chair, he sat on the dust-free side. Putting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his fist, he watched the two people he loved most in the world go through photos of Angel Investigations and baby Connor.

"After you…left, Cordy went…well; she tried to deal as best she could. She found all the pictures of you she had on her computer and in her camera, the ones she hadn't used before in the albums, and put all of them in there. It was therapeutic."

Looking up from a picture of a smiling Gunn and confused looking Angel, she looked at her soon-to-be husband in a new light. "Angel, I can't imagine…what did you do?"

Taking a deep breath, he looked at the floor before answering. "I went to bed for a long time." When he had the courage to look back at Buffy, he saw her wiping her damp eyes. Swallowing a lot of pain that he had wished forgotten, he held himself still. They deserved to look at his past without his interference, he thought.

Connor was slowly turning pages. The first album was mostly of the first few years of Angel Investigations. Cordelia had organized them in a roughly chronological order; Connor felt as if he was watching a movie documenting Angels' life. The first images, and there were few, were of a very different looking Wesley and a perpetually unsmiling Angel. A few were of a man Connor didn't recognize at all.

"Who's this?" Lifting the page so Angel could see, he watched the reaction on his father's face.

Angel hadn't needed Connor to show him the image to know who his son was referring to. There was only one man in that album Connor would not recognize. "His name was Doyle. He was my first seer, before he gave Cordy the visions. He died to save my life." The last was spoken in a hushed voice. Angel had though that he had recovered from Doyle's' death, but the pain felt as fresh as it had eight years ago.

Nodding slowly, Connor continued to the next page. In one picture, Angel had a half smile. The images progressed quickly through the early years of Angel Investigations; there were scant photos of those times. He and Buffy looked though the first album with a growing understanding of what Angel's life had been like. When they reached the next album, they saw something they had rarely seen in the first.

Angel was smiling. In almost every picture, he was smiling. Buffy released a sad and amazed breath. Seeing images of Angel holding and smiling down at an infant made her ache to have her own baby, to watch Angel with their child. There were pictures of everyone holding baby Connor. One in particular, of a distressed looking Gunn looking in the direction of Fred, holding baby Connor, made both Buffy and Connor laugh.

It was a long time before they closed the albums. Sighing, Angel leaned back, his muscles protesting having been in one position for so long. "You can keep any you want, Connor."

"I don't want to break up the album. Let's just take them home."

Nodding, Angel stood. Taking a deep breath, he looked at Buffy. The contemplative longing on her face was evident. Her hands were circling her belly, one hand on each the top and bottom of her protruding abdomen. Taking the hand that was on top of her abdomen, Angel smiled at her.

"We'll have that, Buffy. You'll have that."

Standing, she put her arm around his waist and allowed him to lead her down the stairs. At times, she was amazed at how much she wanted her child. When she had first realized she was pregnant, her overwhelming emotions had consisted mainly of fright and dread. Now, though, she wanted to be a mother more than anything else.

They left rather unceremoniously. Neither Connor nor Angel wanted to stay in the place hat held so many memories. Taking deep breaths once they were outside, Connor held the albums closer to his chest. They were precious to him, and he was going to preserve them to the best of his abilities. Looking at pictures of his father in the years before his birth reminded Connor that Angel had a life before him.

Buffy got into the back of the SUV; she felt the back seat gave her more stomach room. Leaning against the corner of the door jam, she sighed and put one leg on the seat as she buckled her seat belt. She hadn't been so concerned with that kind of safety until she had become pregnant. Closing her eyes, she listened to her stomach growl and felt her baby kick all at the same time. As much as she wanted to give birth and walk without waddling, it was going to be strange to be without the constant presence of her baby inside her.

"Baby and I are hungry. We get violent when we're hungry."

Connor put a look of mock horror on his face. "Angel, the slayer and slayer junior are hungry. Fear for your life."

Smiling a real smile for the first time all day, he nodded and drove towards a deli he knew Buffy would like. "This place has chicken salad, Buffy." He let those words linger as her eyes got bigger.

"Chicken salad! We're going there, right?"

"Yes. And I thought cravings only lasted in the first few months of pregnancy? Your taste buds have been demanding all throughout. Was this pregnancy thing just a ploy to eat new things?" Looking in the rear view mirror, he grinned at her to let her know he was joking. He was rewarded by her sticking her tongue out at him.

"Baby likes what baby likes. That's it. It's not me, Angel. Talk to your kid about these cravings."

Allowing himself a small laugh, Angel looked to his right. Connor was staring into the last page of the second photo album. The pictures that Cordy had at first deemed unsuitable for the album but later included after Connor's kidnapping. The last photo was blurry and unfocused. Angel was in motion, walking towards a basinet that presumably held his infant son. The look on his face was that of concern and determination, as if Connor was about to be attacked and Angel was getting ready to defend him. In realty, Connor thought, Angel had probably been going to him because he was crying. The look on his father's face, though, reminded him how much he had been loved and how outrageous the lies he had been told really were.

"Was I a good baby?" The question was unexpected, and Angel glanced quickly in his sons' direction.

"A good baby? I don't think babies can be bad. Do you mean did you cry a lot or sleep well or things like that?" At Connors nod, Angel continued. "You were great. You slept solidly when you did sleep. You smiled all the time. You were the happiest baby, or as happy as I can imagine babies being. You made these noises, they were so cool."

Connor and Buffy watched Angels' face as he spoke. Buffy, at one point in time in her life, would have called Angels' current expression goofy. Now, she called it sentimental. Watching him remember being a dad was beautiful, she thought. Connor tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat. He would be around nine years old, he thought, if he hadn't been kidnapped and taken to hell. Trying to force away his regrets and useless wishes, he concentrated on the place Angel was now parking behind.

Angel ordered at the counter for him and Buffy and waited for Connor to order for himself before paying the bill. Grabbing a bag of salt and vinegar kettle chips, he gave the bag to Buffy. He could hear her stomach growling and didn't think she could wait fifteen minutes for food.

Connor stole a few chips when he thought Buffy wasn't looking. She jabbed him playfully in the shin with her foot for his treachery. Reaching her hand under the table, she set it atop Angels' thigh. Smiling at him in a reassuring way, she squeezed his leg a little. The movement was cute and comforting, he thought. Smiling at her, he leaned over and kissed her cheek briefly. They heard Connor making gagging sounds across the table.

"I thought only kids did that?"

"No. I'm allowed to gag at any kind of displays of affection you show anyone until I'm about thirty-five. Those are the rules."

"Whose rules?"

"Well…my rules. What other rules would matter?"

"You know, I always thought you would grow out of the bratty behavior by the time you were in your twenties."

"You were wrong." Connor gave his father a sickening sweet smile that made Angel want to smack the back of Connor's head. Realizing his arm wasn't that long and he would have to get up to do that, he settled instead for leaning back and giving the young man a disapproving look.

Buffy gave them both disapproving looks. "You two bicker like it's your job. Shut up please." Licking salt off her fingers, she looked gratefully at the waitress that delivered her chicken salad sandwich.

Sighing through the first few heavenly bites, she suddenly looked thoughtful. Swallowing her food, she sipped her soda and looked towards Angel. "Hey, where's my sister? I haven't talked to her in days."

Fighting to keep from choking on his cheese steak, he somehow kept the surprise off his face. "Dawn? I have no idea."

"Hmm. Someone should check into that."

Staring down into his sandwich, Angel silently agreed. Someone should look into where Dawn was. He had a sinking suspicion that he would find his best friend wherever he found he found his future sister in law. Sighing quietly, he hoped they hadn't gotten into too much trouble during their making up session.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 54

The turning earth was giving off a sweet organic smell. She hadn't ever thought, before a few years ago, that she would like such a scent. Now, she wished she could wake up to it every day. She had no idea what kind of money Angel was paying these people to work on the weekends, but she was glad they were. The school would never be done in time if the crews only worked five days a week. Some of them were even working Sundays, she had learned from the foreman.

Wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a yellow hard hat, Faith brushed her hair away from her eyes. A few of the guys had looked in her direction and one or two had gotten up the nerve to whistle. Before, she would have beaten them into ground meat. Now, she gave them a rude hand gesture and a sweet smile. They laughed, which was a much more rewarding reaction that screams of terror.

Walking throughout the site, she looked at the foundation walls, which were being built for the house style dormitories at the West side of the property. When the construction was done, there would be room for one-hundred and fourteen slayers. Eight houses that would house eight girls each were being built along the West fence, surrounded by woods behind them and the gymnasium in front of them.

Two dormitories were being built at the East end; they would house twenty-five slayers each. Faith had decided that more housing buildings holding a smaller number of girls would be better than forcing fifty or so to live together. She was trying to avoid fights before they even began. Having read up on all-girl schools, Faith knew the troubles she might have to face.

The old high school was being remodeled into something that would serve for classrooms and a few sparring rooms. Most of the sparring, though, would be conducted in the gym. Three different construction crews had been contracted to work on the project. One crew was working on the houses, another was remodeling the school and the third was finishing the structural supports for the gym and indoor pool area.

A landscaping firm had sent thirteen people to try and make the property look beautiful; they had tried explaining what kind of trees they were planting, but Faith had lost interest in the conversation almost immediately. She had remembered to write herself a note about hiring gardeners, though. A paving company was creating a gated entrance and parking lot for the administrators and professors and whatever students had vehicles. Once that was done, they would move on to the basketball and tennis courts and outdoor eating area.

The sketches Angel had sent her included every amenity he could think of. He wanted the academy to be almost self-sufficient. She was sure that when Angel finally negotiated the deal for more land from whoever owned the surrounding properties that he would want to place restaurants and a few clothing stores on the campus. He had mentioned something about creating a small town for the slayers. Faith thought the idea was phenomenal, but she was also slightly alarmed at the idea that the slayers would never leave their area and venture into the real world.

The school was designed almost like a college and boarding school hybrid. The girls would be allowed to leave the campus, with certain conditions. Classes were mandatory, as were training sessions. Privileges were to be earned at this school, Faith had decided. Fights, skipped classes or training sessions would mean a kind of house arrest. The campus, however, was going to offer enough for the girls to do that Faith doubted they would want to leave very often.

Basketball and tennis courts were on the north end. The dormitories would be very close to those courts. The school, outdoor eating area and cafeteria were clustered together, and separated from the gymnasium by soccer and softball fields. In addition to the fields, there were picnic areas, woods with hiking trails, and an outdoor obstacle field and running track.

Smiling to herself, she stood in front of the school, looking at the blueprints for the large piece of land. Angel had insisted the entire facility be fenced in. She understood his reasoning; he only wanted one attack point for an enemy to use if the slayer school became known about. She smiled at his paranoia, but agreed with it to a certain degree. The fence would be over twelve feet high, and was being built behind preexisting woods and forests. They were going to use nature to their advantage.

The site was a few hours from L.A., but the drive was pleasant. The area was quiet and Angel had found some old millionaire that had bought the school after the town around it disappeared. Faith thought that was odd, but there were other towns in California that had ended up as ghost towns. The original school had been built by a wealthy man as a sort of charter school for special needs children. The project had been finished, but hadn't gone according to plan. Faith hadn't heard the entire story; she was just glad Angel had found such a perfect location for the Academy.

Crossing her arms across her chest, she turned to see a Jeep driving along the make-shift roads the construction crews had created. Smiling, she simply raised her eyebrows and waited for the Jeep to park. A smiling Xander exited the vehicle and accepted the hard hart she offered him.

"I thought these things went out of style."

"I got yelled at for not wearing one."

His eyebrows raised in unabashed shock. "Is this person still alive? Someone yelled at you and you're still smiling?"

"I'm doing this whole self control thing. It's a new for me."

"Yeah." Following her to the wide bench with blueprints scattered on it, Xander carefully went through each one before speaking.

"Well, these are good. Really good. I would have moved the cafeteria about ten feet to the right, but what can you do? Anyway, why did you want me to come out here?"

Taking a deep breath, she started, "Well, I know about as much about construction as I know about knitting. I figured you, being mister carpenter person, could give this all a look over and tell me if everything's as smooth as I want it to be."

Nodding, he pulled a few blueprints towards him and traced lines with his fingers. "Everything looks good. A little ambitious, maybe."

"Yeah, blame Angel for that."

"Oh, you didn't want the soccer field?" he joked, "Well, I mean, it's a lot. A lot to get done in the next couple months, especially. But I saw the name of three different companies as I pulled up here, so I guess it can get done. And they're working on Saturday."

"Angel's giving them double time to work weekends. And they go about sixteen hours a day."

"Wow. That's'…intense. Anyway, yeah, I guess it all looks good. If it can get done in time, I will be very impressed. I have no doubt, though, that these guys want to get paid. So I think they will work as hard as they can to get this done. And I wouldn't want to make you mad. That would be enough to make me get this done."

Smirking, she turned around and leaned against the work bench. "Is this going to work, Xan? Can this school really turn into what Willow and Angel want it to be? Willow emailed me this morning; she sent digital pictures of the insides of the classrooms and the administration building. She said an interior design firm used some computer program to create a blueprint of what the interiors will look like. It was pretty neat, but I don't know if we can get this done in time."

"Well, I think we have to. This is what, like, a billion dollar deal? They want this to work. And it has to, there are slayers trying to patrol with no training and no leadership. We know of two girls that have died this year because of lack of practice in the field. I'm amazed the number isn't higher. The thing is, though, we aren't sure if new girls will be activated since those two died. Are all of them, for this entire generation, activated or can there be more? We have to get them to safe places to train them and figure this stuff out."

"We have to track them down first. We have, what, five hundred now? That we know of? It isn't as if we can put adds in international papers asking all super-powered young women to call us."

"Well, we could do that, but we'd probably get some thirty-something year old woman using a towel as a cape telling us she's Wonder Woman incarnate. So I vote to not do that."

"I don't really have any good ideas for tracking these girls down. It can't be easy; keeping something like that a secret. I know I wouldn't tell anyone. Men in white coats would come to take you away."

Shrugging, he turned back to the blueprints. "It was tough for Buffy and she had friends that knew about it. Being all alone on that journey, that would be really hard." Pausing long enough to find the schematics he wanted, he turned to Faith with a curious glance. "Have you guys thought about protection?"

"Protection? What, you mean like guard towers with snipers on them?"

"No. I was thinking of something more along the lines of an escape route. If I were a demon, I wouldn't attack a place with sixty-three student slayers. And I definitely wouldn't attack when you were on campus. But you won't always be here and some of these girls have no training whatsoever. I would have some kind of underground system to get out. Or at least an escape route. I get what Angel wants, with the one entrance, but that also means you guys are trapped if that's blocked."

"I think he thought of that." Looking through the pile of papers, she found the one she had noticed earlier. "Look at this. I think this part," pointing to a tunnel on the blueprint, "is underground. Doesn't it look like it is?"

He stared for a few minutes. Whoever had designed the plans was using a code he had never seen. If he was reading the drawing right, there were underground tunnels throughout the system of buildings. However, he wasn't sure if they were sewer pipes, water pipes, or escape tunnels. The coding was something very unique to whoever had designed the project.

"They're underground alright. I just don't know what they are. Call Angel, he'll know what's going on, hell, he probably designed this code."

"He's kind of secretive about this stuff, isn't he?" If a voice could be dry, hers was. She sounded less than amused and slightly perturbed by her observation.

"He is. I think he lets us on to about ten percent of the actual plan. He does that with everybody though."

Shaking her head, she said, "I'll call him. Honestly, I never know what he's gonna say. He could come right out and say, 'yeah, I have an underground railway and a train waiting to take all of them away,' or he could say, 'I'll think about it,' and never bring it up again. I just never know."

"It worries me." Looking directly at Faith, he tried to gauge her response to his statement. She was more difficult to read than Angel, at times.

"I'm not worried. More frustrated. He compartmentalizes like no other. Anyway, it's hot, I'm hungry, and I want to get out of here. Want to go for a beer?"

Making no effort to hide his surprise, a slow smile crept to his lips as he spoke, "going for a beer with Faith. Never in my wildest dreams did I think of that. And I had some wild dreams about you."

"I bet you did, stud. Don't get any ideas; I think I found a man already."

"You work fast. You've been in California for like five minutes."

"Jealous?" Turning, she flipped the hard hat onto the table and headed for her car. Smiling over her shoulder at him, she laughed before getting behind the wheel. She had missed tormenting Xander.

Shaking his head, Xander started the Jeep and followed Faith away from the multiple work sites. Looking at his watch, he realized he had only about ten hours before he had to catch his flight to Chicago. He figured that was long enough to have a beer and some onion rings with Faith and still be able to grab his already packed bags.

Trying to keep up with the speed demon slayer, he smiled at how much she had changed. She was turning into a pretty neat woman, he mused. Ready to see another woman, he convinced himself that he wasn't nervous about his latest trip. This trip had nothing to do with Wolfram and Hart; it was personal. Pressing the accelerator so as not to loose the slayer he was following, he told himself he was ready for his impromptu vacation.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 55

Dawn was sleeping, her head against the car door. They had decided to leave Saturday night instead of waiting for Sunday. Buffy had called Dawn's cell phone three times, and Dawn had refused to answer for fear of not being able to lie to her sister. Knowing that Buffy would not like the fact that she had no idea where her sister was, they had decided to leave at nightfall. They had actually left much later than that.

The clock on the dashboard read almost three in the morning. They had left about twenty minutes ago, after gambling the afternoon away and dancing throughout most of the night. He hoped to be in L.A. before sunrise so Dawn could go see her sister after getting a few hours of sleep. Hopefully, no one had noticed that they had both disappeared Friday night.

Sighing, he put his elbow on the door and leaned his head against his hand. He was married, his new wife was a few hundred years younger than him and was the slayer's little sister. A slayer he had slept with for months. Sighing again, he glanced at Dawn. She looked angelic when she slept. Her lips parted ever so slightly and her chest rose and fell slowly. Looking at her made him forget all the objections a rational part of his mind was screaming. Smiling to himself, he wondered how Angel's weekend had gone. The last he had heard on Friday afternoon, Angel feared for his life.

Knowing that calling the man this late would lead to impending doom via a pregnant slayer; Will kept his curiosity at bay. Hearing Dawn shift in her seat, he looked to his right and smiled.

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"How long was I out for?" Rubbing her eyes, she rearranged her dress around her knees, pulling one leg under her.

"About half an hour."

"Going out with you is taking its toll on me. You party like a rock star."

Frowning, he looked at her curiously. "I only went to that nightclub because I thought you wanted to go."

"I thought you wanted to go."

A few seconds of silence permeated the car before both occupants started laughing. Dawn was the first to get control of herself again. "That's funny. You party hard, though, Will."

"I know it. I used to do that every Friday and Saturday. Sometimes on Thursdays, depending on how Angel felt. We were drinking buddies, party buddies, for a long time."

"Until he got chained down."

"Until he found happiness. He never wanted to live like that. A person can only go that hard for so long until something happens. You know? I couldn't do this like I used to, you'd have to carry me out of the clubs."

Laughing, she said, "I highly doubt that. I don't doubt that I can't do this all the time. What do couples do? We can't get drunk every weekend; that would be bad and indicate the need for rehab. Going out to restaurants is fun, but that's going to get old. What do we do together?"

"We could go sailing. We could go camping. In a cabin, I don't do that tent crap. We could sit home and watch movies; I could attempt to cook for you. There are a lot of things to do together."

"I like the sailing idea. Let's do that."

"Now?"

Slapping him lightly on the arm, she gave him an annoyed look and settled herself back into her seat. "Don't be dense, maybe next weekend. I've never been sailing."

"Angel and I have a yacht. It's a small yacht. More like a boat with expensive floors and cabins, actually. Anyway, we use to get a lot of booze and load it up and go out to sea for a couple days. Made Wesley all kinds of nervous; he thought we were going to get drunk and fall overboard and drown. We didn't. It was fun to watch him squirm, though."

"You're mean."

"I never claimed to be nice."

Smiling sweetly in his direction, she reached for her purse and pulled out the gummy bears she had stashed there before they had left the hotel. Offering one to him, she shrugged at his look of horror. "They're good."

"No thanks." Making an appalled face in her direction, he waited for her to hit him to change his expression.

He wondered at the odd glee he felt when he tormented Dawn. It was strange, to feel joy when she smacked his arm or looked at him with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. Making funny faces at her seemed to be just the beginning of things he could do to illicit a reaction from her. Fighting the urge to rub his hands together and cackle, he wondered what else he could do to annoy her at that moment.

Reaching across the car with lighting like speed, he grabbed a gummy bear and started reforming it in between his fingers. Sticking the sticky glob against her arm, he fought not to giggle at her shriek of surprise.

"Ewe…Will, that's gross!" Pulling the sticky mess away from her arm, she glared in his direction.

Looking at the gummy bears, she smiled evilly before quickly shoving one into his ear.

"Hey! I'm driving here!" Picking the sugary glob out of his ear, he scowled at her before throwing the offending candy in her direction. "You're going to get us killed."

Giggling, she settled back in her seat and crossed her arms. This relationship was going to turn into something fun, she thought. She could feel it.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 56

Moving quietly from the bed, she held her stomach as she walked to the bathroom. Breathing deeply, she tried to decide if she wanted to tell Angel about the false contraction she was having again. These, though, seemed to be coming much harder than the Braxton-Hicks she had experienced a few days ago. Regulating her breathing, she closed her eyes and tried to get her body to clam down.

Wincing, she doubled forward as her baby landed a very solid blow to her internal organs. Gasping for breath, another contraction radiated from her back to her abdomen. Taking deep breaths, she tried to walk to the door but was doubled over again as another angry kick landed on her bladder.

Sinking to her knees, she called for Angel. Half of her hoped he would come immediately and lift her into his arms and make everything okay. The other half of her hoped he wouldn't wake up and this was all a bad dream.

Looking up, she saw his stricken face as he opened the bathroom door. "Buffy? What's wrong?" The concern verging on panic was evident on his features.

"I don't know." Grabbing at her stomach, she realized with absolute certainty that there was something wrong with her baby.

Leaning closer to her, he scooped her up in his arms and was off down the hallway and stairs before she could say anything else. Placing her in the backseat of the SUV, he took a deep breath before running at his top speed back into the house in grab his shoes, a shirt, keys and cell phone. He was behind the wheel and pulling out of the driveway in seconds, speeding to the nearest hospital.

He slipped a shirt and shoes on at the first red light and blew threw the others. Tuning his senses to high alert, he listened for any and all oncoming traffic as he sped threw over a dozen red lights. It was nearing four in the morning, and his tired brain had immediately converted panic into adrenaline.

He didn't bother going to the Wolfram and Hart medical facility, where Buffy had been treated and where the birth was scheduled to take place in three weeks. Driving faster than most ambulances dared, he got them to the nearest hospital in half the time it would have taken at normal speeds. Thanking whatever powers that would listen for the lack of police intervention during his high speed experience, he tried to remain as calm as possible for Buffy's sake.

Buffy tried to keep her pain quiet. She knew Angel was on the verge of panic and that he was driving like a mad man. Wincing, she ground her teeth as her baby started doing summersaults within her. Whatever was happening, her baby was not happy about it. The pain of the contractions was minimal compared to the beating her organs were taking.

Whispering to her baby, she tried to explain that they were moving as fast as they could. She told her baby everything would be alright, that she understood and was going to fix whatever was wrong. The same bond that existed between her and Angel had grown between her and her baby, and Buffy could feel that her baby was in distress.

Angel listened with half an ear as Buffy talked to her stomach. His senses for focused on getting her someplace that could help her. Breathing hard, he pulled into the emergency area and was out of car, gathering Buffy into his arms, before the car had come to a complete stop.

Two nurses rushed to him as soon they were in the doorway. Putting her in a wheelchair, he followed closely behind as someone in pink scrubs tried to ask him questions. Knowing he wasn't answering very well, he instead tried to concentrate on Buffy. Keeping his questions for the nurse to a minimum, he waited until Buffy was on a bed and being hooked up to an alarming amount of wires to voice concerns to the medical staff.

Sensors were strapped to her belly as a nurse started reading something they told Angel had to do with the baby's heart rate. Holding her hand, he whispered comforting words into Buffy's ear and stroked her hair with his free hand.

A nurse got his attention, "The baby's having decelerations."

"What does that mean?"

"The baby's in distress, we need to get her upstairs to the OB/GYN floor now."

Stepping away, he walked in a blur of senses as they got her into the elevator and rode to the third floor. Taking deep breaths, he walked as calmly as possible behind the gurney holding his lover and unborn child. Buffy was obviously in pain. Lifting her in his arms, he set her on the bed in the room they had been led into.

Grabbing his shirt, she pulled him close so that only he could hear what she was saying. "They won't understand, Angel. The baby needs to come out now. How do I…" she paused as she tried to breath through a contraction. "How do I tell them that the baby's kicking me to death?"

Taking her hand reassuringly, he turned to the nurse. "What are you going to do?"

"We paged the doctor; he knows it's an emergency. I need you to answer some questions for me until he gets here."

He gave her a litany of information, including the due date, the name of Buffy's regular doctor, and the last time she had seen him. In the middle of an explanation, the nurse turned to the beeping monitor that was connected to a sensor on Buffy's belly. Leaving Angel, she immediately went to the monitor to read the information printing out.

The nurse asked her, "Are you having a contraction?"

At Buffy's nod yes, the nurse went to the room door and yelled for another nurse. Watching these proceedings, Angel's heart rate started to increase. Holding Buffy's hand tightly, he watched a doctor walk briskly into the room and look at the readout. It was about twenty seconds later that Buffy was wheeled towards the surgery.

Feeling as if he was about to faint, Angel wrote down a number for a nurse to call and then followed another person in scrubs into an area meant for expectant fathers. Agreeing that he wanted to be in the room while the cesarean was preformed, Angel was quickly helped into a gown, mask, gloves and hat and told not to touch anything. Going to Buffy, he held her head in his hands as he tried not to look over the blue sheet separating her chest from the rest of her body as it was quickly becoming covered with come kind of orange antibacterial agent.

"You'll be okay, Buffy. We'll be okay."

"It's all too fast, Angel."

"Don't worry, the baby will be fine."

Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on the cold solution being rubbed over her stomach and the IV fluid going into her arm. Biting back a scream, she let tears run freely down the sides of her face. Listening to Angels' words of comfort, she tried to ignore the fact that the anesthesia hadn't fully set it yet.

Gasping, she felt the surgeon start to cut into her stomach. Using every technique she had ever learned to manage pain, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Tuning out the sounds of Angel above her, the doctors talking around her and the steel clanging against sterile trays, she focusing only on her baby.

It wasn't until she heard the doctor exclaim that the baby was out that she opened her eyes. The blue sheet in front of her prevented her from seeing her baby, which almost sent her into a panic. Looking to Angel, she saw the alarm written clearly on his features. Fighting to keep from screaming, she tried to listen for sounds that her baby was alright.

There was no crying. Realizing with a sickening sense of dread that her baby wasn't crying, she started screaming to Angel to tell her what was going on. The last thing she heard before her sobbing filled the room was something about a cord being wrapped around his neck.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 57

Wesley reached for the phone on the night table as Fred turned and gave the device a deadly look. Leaning on his elbow, he looked at the clock and raised an eyebrow; it was nearly four thirty in the morning. Lifting the receiver, his face dropped as he listened to the nurse on the other end of the line. Hanging up the phone, he leapt out of bed and grabbed at his pants. Fred sat bolt upright, a horrified look on her face.

He said, by way of explanation, "Buffy's had the baby. Or is having the baby. The nurse didn't give me much information, but something went wrong. Buffy was taken to surgery to have an emergency C-section."

Jumping out of bed, Fred grabbed the closest pair of jeans that were lying on top of the hamper and pulled on a t-shirt. Picking up the phone, she started dialing the number she knew by heart as Wesley prepared Allison to leave. By the sounds of it, the baby was not happy at being woken hours before she was due to get up.

Gunn answered on the third ring. Explaining the situation to him, she gave him the name of the hospital and told him to call Will. Throwing the receiver into its cradle, she grabbed a light jacket and took hold of Allison as Wesley found his keys and the small family hurried out the door. After situating Allison in her car seat, Fred rubbed her tired eyes and shut the passenger side door just as Wesley started to pull from the curb.

"What did the nurse say?"

"That Buffy and Angel came in a little while ago and the baby was in distress. Angel gave her our number to call; he followed Buffy into surgery."

"That's it? She didn't say anything else? What kind of distress?"

"I don't know Fred. I don't think she's allowed to give that kind of information over the phone."

Rubbing her face again, Fred tried to smooth her rumpled hair. Taking deep breaths, she fished her cell phone from her purse and dialed Dawn's number. Waiting impatiently for the young woman to pick up, Fred tried to relax and tell herself that Buffy and the baby would be fine. Dawn answered on the second ring.

"Dawn? Where are you?"

"I'm on the highway."

Not bothering to hide her exasperation, Fred said, "The highway? What highway? What are you doing?"

"I was on a trip over the weekend. What's wrong?"

Sighing, Fred tried to relay the message as calmly as possible. "Buffy's in the hospital. There's something going on with the baby, she's having an emergency C-section."

The absolute silence on the other end of phone forced Fred to ask Dawn if she was still there.

"Yeah, I'm here. I can't be there for another hour and a half, maybe two. I'll get there as fast as I can. Tell Buffy I'm on my way."

Hanging up the phone, Dawn looked to her partner just as his cell phone started to ring. Will listened to Gunn for about two seconds before giving a curt reply and hanging up. Pressing the accelerator to the floor, Will gripped the steering wheel so tightly Dawn thought it might break.

"Will she be okay?" Knowing that Will didn't have the answer to that question, and knowing that he would try to reassure her, she asked it anyway.

"I really don't know. I hope so. Buffy's strong. She's been shot, stabbed, and beaten to death. I think she can do this."

"Can the baby do it?"

Pausing, Will pressed the accelerator even closer to the floor. "A kid that was made by those two? I'll be surprised if he isn't lifting cars over his head to throw at demons by age three."

Swallowing the fear in her throat and wishing they had left earlier, she tried to ignore the disconnection between what Will was saying and what his face and hands were doing. Knowing that he was just as nervous as she was, she grabbed the door handle a little tighter and prayed they wouldn't get pulled over.

Closing her eyes, she snapped them open and fished for her cell phone when she realized that everyone had probably forgotten to call Xander or Willow or Giles. Xander didn't answer, which was odd. Leaving him an urgent message to call her back, she disconnected before dialing Willow's number.

A perky Willow answered her phone. "Hey Dawnie."

"Willow…Buffy's having the baby."

Willow took a deep breath on the other end of the line. She could tell from Dawn's tone of voice that the situation wasn't going well. "It's not good is it?"

"She's having emergency surgery. I don't know anything else and I'm about two hours away. What do I do?" The pleading quality of her voice was almost overwhelmed by the desperation.

"Calm down, Dawn. Don't get in an accident. There's nothing you can do if she's in surgery. Let me call Giles. I'll be on the next plane out, okay? I'll try to be there tomorrow. Please keep me posted? Call if something goes wrong?"

"It's going wrong. Buffy's in trouble, Willow."

Trying to stay calm, Willow fingered the edge of her sleeve, and tried to sound calmer than she felt. "I'll call Giles and get people to cover here and I'll teleport in, okay? I'll probably get there before you. I'll call you when I'm there."

"Do you need to know where she is?"

"I could find her anywhere in the universe, Dawn. I'll be there soon."

Hanging up, Willow put her head in her hands and tried to tap in to Buffy. The static was too high, there was something terribly wrong. Picking up the phone, she waited an impossibly long time as the long distance was connected to Giles' personal line.

He answered just before the answering machine picked up. "Yes? Yes? Giles here."

"Giles, its Willow. Dawn just called me. Buffy's in the hospital, something went wrong with the baby."

The alarm was evident in his voice when he spoke. "Is she alright? What happened?"

"I don't know. She's having emergency surgery. Whatever happened, it's not good. I can't connect with her."

"I'm calling my travel agent. I'll be on a plane in a few hours."

"I'm going to get Cerise to cover things on my end and I'm leaving. I'm not taking a plane."

"I'll get there as soon as I can."

Willow sat for a moment before standing and collecting her senses. Writing a note for Cerise, she explained the situation and asked her to cover all administrative emergencies until she returned. Closing her eyes, Willow concentrated with all her might, bending reality around her. The air was sucked from her lungs for a moment before she opened her eyes again.

She allowed herself a moment to adjust to the darkness before looking around the parking lot and getting her bearings. Swallowing hard, she entered the hospital and used her senses to try and judge where Buffy was. Following her instincts, she took the elevator to the third floor and walked down a hallway until she saw Fred and Wesley sitting in a waiting area.

Breathing a sigh of relief that she wasn't the only one there, Willow sat down next to Fred, giving the other woman a supportive hug as she did so. Leaning over to squeeze Wesley's arm, Willow gave a supportive smile. After greeting each other, they looked up to see Gunn coming down the hallway. He didn't sit. Pacing anxiously, he looked to them, asking if anyone knew anything.

"We haven't heard anything, but we've only been here a few minutes."

Gunn nodded. "Where's Dawn? And Will?"

Fred answered, "We called them. They're on their way."

Willow looked up, "Did anyone call Faith? Or Xander?"

Shaking their heads, Wesley reached into his pocket and found his cell phone. A grumpy Faith answered with a few choice expletives. Giving her the address, he gave her a brief explanation and hung up. Leaving a message for Xander to call him, Wesley shoved the phone back into his pocket. The group waited with baited breath until a man in scrubs approached them.

Explaining he was a nurse, and still had no word on the baby or the mother, he led them to a different waiting area. This area was more cornered off from the hall, it was more private. Fred recognized that the privacy was due to the fact that grieving families were lead here. Babies or mothers with poor prognoses usually could expect their families to be in waiting areas like this. Wesley had been in such areas, waiting for Fred, many times before.

Trying to believe that this was not a bad sign, Fred sat gingerly, holding her sleeping daughter. Suddenly regretting bring Allison, she wondered how Buffy would react to seeing the infant if she had lost her baby. Hoping with all her might that Buffy and the baby were both healthy, she rocked her own daughter against her breast and remembered the pain of loosing her unborn children. She would wish that pain on no one.

They seemed to sit for hours, when in reality they had been there only half an hour or so. Finally, a bedraggled Angel, wearing track pants, running shoes and a t-shirt appeared from the hallway. Everyone immediately stood to great him with multiple questions and exclamations.

Sitting heavily, his shoulders slumped and arms lung limply at his sides. "They resuscitated the baby. The cord was around his neck. Buffy lost a lot of blood, but she'll be okay. They're moving her to recovery now. Brady's in the NICU."

"Brady? It's a boy?" Fred let the relief play freely across her features.

Putting his head in his hands, Angel leaned forward. The doctors had told him there was no guarantee. They had given Buffy and Brady good prognoses, but they had emphasized that there was no guarantee. Angel started praying for one.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 58

Taking a deep breath, Buffy opened her eyes to a soft white room. The curtains were drawn against the rising sun and the only sounds in the room were of a beeping IV pump and Angel's steady breathing. Brushing the hair from her face, Buffy watched her lover breathing steadily, his chest rising and falling. Sitting up, she winced at the pain in her stomach.

He shifted at the sound of movement. Opening his eyes, he moved to her side with incredible speed, taking her hands in his. "Hey."

"Hey." Bracing her stomach, she lay back down gingerly. "Is he okay?"

Nodding, Angel squeezed her hands tighter. "He's okay. He's in the NICU now; the nurses said they've never seen a baby recover so quickly."

Smiling, she almost laughed. "He kept trying to tell me something was wrong. I knew it, Angel. I knew he was in trouble. He kicked me really hard."

"The doctors said you have internal bruising. They couldn't explain it."

"I can. He's going to be a soccer star or a kicker for a football team or something. He's got some legs on him."

Smiling, Angel almost cried with relief that she was awake and smiling. Her hair was out of control and her skin was pale, but she had never looked more beautiful than in that moment, he thought. Brushing her hair down with his hand, he leaned forward and kissed her lightly.

"They said we can go see him soon. They want to make sure you're okay first."

Releasing a slow breath, she smiled at him. "They have no idea who they're dealing with. I'll be doing high kicks by tomorrow."

"I doubt that. You need to take it easy for a little while. Just a little while, though. You're already healing fast. They thought they'd have to give you another unit of blood, but you only needed one. You and Brady are amazing all the staff."

A short laugh escaped her lips. Closing her eyes, she wished she could hold her baby. "He is okay, right?"

Nodding again, Angel vowed to reassure her as often as she needed it. "He didn't need a ventilator or anything. They said he's really close to full term; he won't need to stay here long. They just want to make sure there isn't any swelling around his neck or anything. I think we can all go home tomorrow or the day after."

"It better be tomorrow. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to." Opening her eyes, she brushed her hand across his cheek. "How was that as an end to our day?"

Smirking, he turned his face to kiss the inside of her hand. "I could do with a little less excitement."

They sat in silence for a few moments until Angel spoke again. "Everyone's here. They're out in the hall. The nurses don't want many people to see you at the same time, but they said if your vital signs are good in a little while you can have as many visitors as you want. Should I send someone in?"

"I want to see my baby, Angel. Can't I have my baby?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he shook his head sadly. "He has to stay in the intensive care unit for a little longer. He's really strong, Buffy. His vital signs are great, he's beautiful. You'll see him soon."

Sighing heavily, she nodded and closed her eyes in exhaustion. Angel watched her sleep for a few moments before he rose and went out into the hallway. Again, everyone stood as he approached. Giving them a half smile, he looked at his oldest son, who had arrived shortly after Angel had come out of the surgery unit.

"How is she?"

"She's okay. Sore, tired, impatient to go home, but okay."

Sitting tiredly, he felt his muscles start to relax from fatigue.

"I brought clothes for you guys. I didn't think it was an emergency, I just thought she went into labor. I heard you leave last night and figured you wouldn't take anything." Handing his father a small suitcase, Angel accepted it with tired gratitude.

Sitting next to her friend, Willow put her arm around Angel and squeezed his shoulders. "Congratulations, Angel."

A small, tired, smile graced his lips. "Thanks Willow." Breathing out slowly, he shook his head. "That was nerve racking."

Gunn let out a brief, surprised laughter. "Nerve racking? Man, I would be a puddle on the floor. I'm amazed you're still conscious."

Faith nodded, "Yeah, man. You're holding up really well under all this stress."

Taking a deep breath, he excused himself and went to the nurses' station. After receiving a temporary swipe card, he let himself into the neo-natal intensive care unit. He could feel where his baby was without having to ask anyone. Sitting in a chair that was next to the enclosed plastic crib, he smiled down at his sleeping son. Brady was beautiful. A shock of dark hair covered his head, but Angel thought he would have his mothers' eyes and nose.

Putting his hand on the crib, he looked through it. Brady was monitored by few wires. There were wires monitoring his heart and a clip on his toes monitoring oxygen, but little else seemed to be on his baby. Thankful that Brady needed minimum intervention; he wished with all his being that he could hold his son in that moment. He felt the presence of a nurse behind him before she spoke.

"I think he can go to his mother today. When day shift comes on, they'll talk to the doctor. I'd guess, if everything keeps going this way, that he'll be with you and your wife by ten or eleven in the morning."

Thanking the nurse, Angel continued to stare at the being he had helped create. His heart swelled, he thought his chest would burst with pride and happiness. Taking a deep breath, he rose and returned to Buffy. She would not be happy about waiting do long to hold her son.

It was near noon when Brady was carried into a room of waiting people. Sitting up excitedly, Buffy smiled from ear to ear as the baby was placed in her arms. Cooing to her new son, she felt tears of joy running down her face. Angel gently brushed them away as he smiled down at his new son. Brady did not mind being the center of attention; he didn't cry at all.

Willow and Dawn were sitting on the bed, their sounds of cooing and awing made everyone in the room smile. Sitting on the non-occupied side of the bed, Angel put his arm around Buffy's shoulders and pulled her close. Kissing the side of her head, he took his sons' tiny hand in his own and felt the short and fast pulse within the tiny appendage.

Breathing easier than she had in days, Buffy held her baby close and kissed his forehead multiple times. "You are so beautiful, little guy." Nuzzling her cheek against his, she listened to pleasant yawns escaping her baby's mouth. She held her breath when his tiny eyes opened for a moment. He looked at her for a short time before closing his eyes again and falling asleep. Laughing, Buffy rocked him close and looked adoringly at Angel. He returned the expression.

"He's so perfect, Buffy." Dawn brushed her forefinger along Brady's cheek.

Coming closer, Fred leaned over the loving family and smiled at baby Brady. "You already have a play date, mister!" Gently shaking his little hand, Fred hugged Buffy and congratulated her.

Sitting back in his chair, Will watched Dawn with Brady and tried to deny his own longing. Clearing his throat, he looked at Angel and smiled. "You couldn't do this easy, could you? No, you had to make it a production."

Giving his friend a wry smile, Angel responded, "It turned out perfectly. It doesn't matter how it happened, it happened, and it worked out."

Sighing, Gunn leaned forward, a grin dominating his features. "That is one good looking kid. Good job Buffy."

Angel frowned. "What is this? Pick on Angel day?"

Laughing, Buffy kissed Angel's cheek. "Can we go home yet?"

"Tomorrow. They have to do…stuff. Something about your uterus I just didn't want to hear."

Nudging him playfully with her elbow, Buffy looked at Connor and beckoned the young man over. "Want to hold your little brother?"

Balking at first, Connor soon smiled and nodded. Taking the wrapped infant in his arms, he carefully supported Brady's head as he walked around the bed. "This is so cool." Rocking the neonate back and forth, he played with the baby's hair for a few seconds. "He has a lot of hair."

Standing, Dawn stood next to the baby and gently took him from Connor's grasp. Laughing softly down at the infant, she realized she had never held a baby before. Kissing his forehead, she looked at Faith and started walking towards the woman.

"No! No! I can't hold babies. And they might be contagious."

Laughing at her obvious nerves, Dawn set Brady into the woman's reluctant grasp. Swallowing hard, Faith looked at the sleeping infant and started to relax a little. It wasn't difficult, she told herself. When he hiccupped, she jumped three feet high. Laughing nervously, she quickly put the infant back in his mother's arms.

"Good job, B." Patting her former rivals' shoulders, she was glad that she was no longer the infant, doing so made her nervous.

The group slowly filed out of the room as Buffy indicated that it was time to feed Brady. Kissing her sister on the forehead, Dawn whispered her congratulations before leaving the room. Left alone, Buffy looked to Angel with a nervous expression.

"What if he doesn't eat? They said to feed him now."

Smiling, he moved closer to her. "He'll eat. Just…do what you do."

Staring dumbly at him, she waited for further instruction. Clearing his throat, he looked at her with a slightly concerned expression. "Didn't those baby books talk about breast feeding? I thought you read about that stuff."

"Well, I did. I thought I wanted to do that. Do I want to do that? I don't even know how."

"Umm…I might not be the best person to ask. Do you want me to go get a nurse?"

Thinking for a moment, she shook her head. "No, I can do it." Determined to fulfill her first motherly role, she started positioning herself. Pulling her hospital gown down, she took a deep breath as she tried to position Brady properly. After a few failed attempts, he latched on and started to suckle.

Kissing her head, Angel watched what he considered a miracle. It was beautiful, what her body was capable of and the instincts Brady seemed to have. Angel was in awe at the sight before him.

"That's a weird sensation." She laughed nervously but soon relaxed as she felt her body take over. It was an odd and comforting sensation all at once. Her muscles relaxed and her brain quieted as Brady fed.

Laughing, Angel put his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes for a few seconds. This was what happiness felt like, he thought. This was sheer relief and utter joy. Smiling into her shoulder, he let the excitement of what the next few days would bring fully occur to him. He couldn't wait to be a dad again.


	25. Chapter 25

Epilogue

They sat a respectful distance away from each other on the patio of Angel and Buffy's home. If anyone would have questioned their arriving together, Dawn was sure one of them would have created a convincing lie. As it was, though, everyone was too preoccupied with Buffy and Brady to focus on anyone else. Dawn had vowed to herself and made Will agree, that they were not going to tell anyone of their elopement. This was Buffy's day and Dawn was not going to overshadow it in any way.

Faith eyed Gunn every once and a while they sat waiting, he returned the secretive looks. The heat wave had finally ended and the weather was pleasantly warm instead of oppressive. The entire family, including those who were currently living overseas, had come back to their old stomping grounds to great the new family member as he came home from the hospital. The only people missing were Cordelia and Xander.

Xander had called Wesley in the afternoon with the explanation his phone was off during his flight to Chicago. After being reassured that everyone was happy and healthy, Xander had decided to continue with his self-appointed mission. He had promised to return to Las Angeles with baby gifts.

Buffy hadn't had a baby shower. It seemed to Dawn that everyone had simply forgotten the pregnant slayer during difficult times. After the death of Connor's family, everyone had been consumed with finding and apprehending the culprits. Since that crisis was over, or nearly so Dawn thought, she had felt compelled to organize a baby shower for the day Buffy and Brady came home.

Connor had given everyone access to the house; Angel had stayed in the hospital with Buffy all day and night since taking her there. The patio tables had been repositioned and Will had rented a long table from someone or somewhere. Presents were positioned and food had been ordered, the only thing missing were the parents and baby.

Connor sat, trying to look relaxed. In fact, though, he was excited to have Brady come home. He had started to consider the baby his brother almost immediately after he had moved in with Angel and Buffy; he was elated at the prospect of finally being able to hold and play with his new sibling. Shifting in his seat, he surveyed the grounds.

Fred had called a catering company and within twenty four hours the food had been delivered. It was prettily assorted over the table, a bucket of ice and sodas were sitting on the ground beside the buffet. Willow had created, with the help of paint and Dawn, a welcome home banner that hung across the living room. Wesley and Gunn had worked all morning to create a space by the pool that was shady and relaxing. There was no need for the new mother and child to have to sit in the sun, they thought. A temporary awning had been added to the house, but Wesley rather thought Angel would keep it.

An exhausted looking Giles had arrived after a twelve hour flight at six in the evening on Sunday. He had joked that he left at 3:10 in the afternoon and arrived at 6:15 in the evening even though the flight felt a little longer than three hours. Buffy had been feeding Brady and Giles had been jet lagged, so he had opted to surprise her during the Monday afternoon shower.

Rearranging the gifts for the tenth time, Fred twisted and pivoted the gifts to her satisfaction, making sure the brightly colored packaging was catching a little light. There had been a mad rush to baby stores in the morning; Wesley had driven Fred, Dawn, Willow and Giles to a very trendy baby boutique down town. Giles had acted like the proverbial kid in a candy store. Knowing that the normally frugal Giles hadn't used his credit card for years, Willow had been astonished at the amount of items he had insisted on buying for the baby.

Will and Gunn had opted for a manlier, by their estimations, destination. Faith had followed them, citing hives as the reason she couldn't go to the baby boutique; she was convinced her throat would close up if she so much as looked at options for bassinet liners. The trio had gone to a department store that not only had gifts for babies, but had gifts for the parents. Faith had opted for a bag of gag gifts and hoped Angel wouldn't have a heart attack when he opened them.

When the front door opened, everyone stood; the excitement was palpable. Trying not to scream too loud, for the baby's sake, the assembled group welcomed the new parents back home. A surprised Buffy looked at the assemblage with a dropped jaw. Her surprise quickly transformed into joy as she approached everyone with her infant in her arms. Handing Brady to Angel, Buffy hugged everyone, Giles for an especially long time, as she steered towards a seat and given a plate of food.

"You guys didn't have to do this!"

"The hell we didn't." Smiling ear to ear, Will stood next to Angel as the proud father rocked his son.

"Presents!" Smiling ear to ear, Fred started handing the bright boxes to Buffy, obviously excited for her to open them.

The small party continued into the evening. Dawn helped change her first dirty diaper and Buffy opened gifts consisting of blankets, toys, rattles, mobiles, and gift baskets. Faith's gifts were of a more sexual nature and caused Buffy to laugh and Angel to blush. Angel had already bought a circular crib and a changing table for the nursery, but he hadn't had a chance to buy much else; the supplies for Brady were welcomed.

Buffy left for a little while, Willow in tow, to feed Brady. The red haired witch nearly cried at the sight of the natural beauty of mother and baby together. When they returned, Dawn was being thrown into the pool and Fred had started to gather dirty dishes and discarded wrapping paper from the tables and ground.

By the end of the evening, after everyone had left, Angel had found a few moments to hang the mobile and put his favorite of the baby blankets in the crib. Not bothering to turn on the baby monitor, he instead put the bassinet Giles had given them next to Buffy's side of the bed. He thought she would like that best for the first few nights, at least.

Lying with the love of his life in his arms, he gently fingered the area around her rapidly healing stomach wound. She had been ordered to lift nothing over ten pounds for a week and to avoid exercise for four weeks. He doubted she was going to follow any of those instructions; he knew she would heal much faster than the doctors imagined. Sighing contentedly, he looked over Buffy's shoulder to watch his sleeping son.

Life was beautiful, he said aloud. Buffy had to agree. Kissing her Angel, she smiled and whispered a reminder about their coming wedding in his ear. Smiling back, he assured her he hadn't forgotten and planted kisses down her neck. Asleep in each other's arms, they both dreamed of the future.


End file.
